


Northland

by aevium



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nature, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:52:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8340526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aevium/pseuds/aevium
Summary: Something major shakes the group and without warning Zoro escapes the city, back to his homeland. Worried, Sanji follows and steps into his world, where ardor chases and threatens to change their friendship for good. Modern AU zosan / romance, angst, drama, h/c. Illustrated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE:
> 
> It's been a while since I began this story and I'm sorry to say that I've decided to discontinue it, partly due to recycling ideas I had for it for another fic and partly because I've lost my drive for it. I will leave the five chapters I've written here since there are readers who continue to enjoy it, but fair warning for new readers, this story is INCOMPLETE!
> 
> If you decide to read anyway, a couple things to let you know off the top of my head:
> 
> If you're worried about my vague categories or tags, please let me know what your trigger is. I will tell you whether this fic is or isn't for you. This isn't going to be a very explicit fic in terms of content (other than sex scenes later on), but it will deal with some disturbing themes in the future, and of moving past childhood traumas. 
> 
> This fic deals with some aboriginal (native) themes. I’m not an expert on this topic, so if I convey anything wrong or offensive regarding their traditions and views, please let me know and I’ll correct it.
> 
> Also, Zoro and Sanji are 24 here. Everyone else is aged accordingly. (I like to age them up in modern au). A little something about their appearances, I’m going for a very realistic setting here, it’s set in our world after all, so I decided to normalize the crew’s appearance. Most importantly, Zoro has black hair. Sanji’s eyebrows are normal (tho slightly slanted up at the ends, all sultry-like).

                                                       

 

**Northland**

_evening, pt. I_

 

He's been its shadow for weeks. The great grizzly lumbers ahead, picking at shrubs of berries, climbing trees to pluck insects from the bark and branches, and occasionally a more daring endeavour, stealing from wolves, a pack it's become familiar with in the area.

The adolescent boy watches from the shelter of a tree trunk as the bear feasts on the carcass of an elk calf. The wolves have long since given up the fight—probably over an hour they'd been trying to reclaim their kill—and are now moving steadfastly along the river, lapping up water as they retreat.

The sinewy meat dangles from the grizzly's sharp teeth, its muzzle tinged crimson with blood. The boy's stomach growls. He can't remember the last time he gorged himself on a meal. Berries, nuts and other wild vegetation can only fill him so much. Been a while since he caught a hare, tricky little critters.

The boy's eyes drift off for a moment as he laments his hunger, but he focuses again on the bear. He skulks closer to the river, feet light, the crunch of dead leaves an unwelcomed whisper under each step. Winter's close by, an ominous concern he'd like to neglect, a futile wish. As the grizzly halts, the boy finds another tree to hide behind just as he thinks he's pushed his luck.

The boy smirks as the grizzly looks up, eyes instinctively scanning the area. Been following this bear a while now and never been this close before. It's enthralling. He can hear as it bites again into flesh, tears at fur, grinds teeth on bone. It's like a pike in his heart when the grizzly stops again, head craning up as it stares directly at him, right into his eyes. He quickly shifts back behind the tree, breaths trembling, heart doing wild thumps against his ribcage. The boy's eyelids close a moment.

Yellow eyes, a perfect amber like hot melted gold, something off about their pigmentation. Too bright, too piercing, unlike any bear he'd seen. Unique. He'd been young, but he remembers the eyes well to this day.

Yellow eyes, like gold, watchful and sharp as a hawk's. Staring straight into him. He smiles and turns to catch another glance. The grizzly's attention is back to the carcass, completely unconcerned by the adolescent boy's presence. Untroubled, unthreatened.

Hawk Eyes, he calls it from then on.

He wonders how long this bear has roamed the north alone like this. Must be older than him. Must know the tundra and forests well, must thrive. Certainly knows how to survive better than him. The boy decides maybe he can learn some tricks from Hawk Eyes before he puts a knife in its heart.

Before winter, he needs to get back to the girl he'd met hunting with her father in the open plains. A massive trek over hills and valleys of tundra, but not only will he need the support of her tribe to get through the winter, he feels a powerful calling to be with her. He needs to finish the hunt soon.

The grizzly trudges downriver, belly bloated, a twisted mass of bones, skin and fur left in its wake. The girl's name is etched on the boy's lips with a smile as he springs to his feet.

* * *

He wants to smack his cell right off the side of his bed when it won't stop buzzing. Who the fuck is texting and calling so much? Where's the goddamn fire? He's half-asleep so he can't bother to rationalize that maybe it's something urgent—he'd had a rough night at work and fell into a deeper sleep than normal soon as his head hit the pillow.

When his phone vibrates for the nth fucking time, Sanji finally jerks himself awake with a deep inhale, rubbing his eyes and fingers through his hair. He plucks his phone up angrily. "What, what, _what_ do you want!? _Fuck_."

He squints as his eyes adjust to the cell's light in the darkness and what looks like a barrage of notifications, 17 texts and 6 missed calls. Most of them from Usopp and Ace. He groans.

He taps the most recent text from Usopp. _Hey, you up? You need to get here soon. It's not looking good._

"What's not..." Sanji mumbles, heartbeat picking up. "What's going on?"

He scans through his notifications, a blur of texts cut short but he sees Kuina's name an awful lot and is beginning to sense the urgency. He clicks on another text, this one from Ace.

_At vancouver general. get here soon man. know you had a busy night but pick up your phone._

An earlier text from Usopp. _Not sure what happened. Apparently she wasn't breathing when Zoro tried to wake her up._

His eyes widen. There are more, a couple texts from Nami and one missed call from Sabo. Earlier texts and missed calls from Ace and Usopp. It doesn't matter. He gets the gist.

Sanji's in shock. What's happened? Kuina's in the hospital? Zoro must be a wreck. Well, as much of a wreck as that stone-faced guy can get. He's a little nervous about what he might see. Throwing off his sheets, he hugs himself as the cold air of the room hits him. Fuck winter and these shitty expensive gas bills forcing him to turn down the furnace. The lanky blond calls Ace and puts him on speakerphone as he rushes to get changed, any trace of sleep gone from him now, his mind completely awake.

" _Took you long enough,"_ Ace's voice answers, loud and droning in his room.

"What the hell's going on? Kuina's in the hospital? How bad is it?" Sanji asks, struggling to fit his socks on and growling in frustration as his balance falters and he steadies himself on the dresser.

" _Yeah, she – we don't know what happened. We've been sitting here waiting for over an hour. Zoro's in with the doctor now."_

"Shit," Sanji curses, shaking his head in disbelief. "What the hell..."

" _I don't know. It's fucked."_

He hears a heavy sigh on the other end. "Who's there? Everyone?"

" _Me, Luffy, Sabo, Usopp, Nami – uh, Robin and Franky are on their way last I heard. Can't get a hold of Brook or Chopper."_

Sanji nods. "Okay. Just getting dressed now. Where will everyone be?"

" _Go to ER. One of the nurses will show you in, I'll go let them know to expect you."_

"Got it. On my way now."

" _See you soon."_

His cigarette's already lit as he shuts the door.

* * *

By the time the nurse leads Sanji to the waiting room 30 minutes later, his friends are staring back at him with hopeless expressions. There's not a doctor in sight, but Sanji is aware in that moment that the doctor's already been there, and left them with bad news. He almost can't bear to look at them.

He walks in briskly, wordless, then suddenly uncertain of his quick steps, taking in the heavy atmosphere as it slows him down like a tangible force of gravity. He doesn't know what to do or say, how to feel. This is already too horrible and no one's said a word yet. He feels awful for being this late, for sleeping so deeply at the worst fucking time.

Zoro and Luffy aren't in sight, as much as his eyes search for them.

"What..." his words die on his lips as he approaches.

"Sanji, it's awful," Nami says. She's in tears, sitting down with her head in her hands. Her body is quivering.

He goes to her in a heartbeat and lays a comforting hand on her back. It's horrible seeing her in pain like this. He looks around at his friends; some are still standing, some sitting looking so, so defeated. It breaks him apart.

"Kuina, she – t-they..." Nami struggles to find the words. He rubs her back. "She died..." she chokes. "She's gone."

He frowns severely and remains silent, lips tightening together as he pulls her into a warm embrace and she cries into his chest. It's so strange hearing those words out loud, even though he had already surmised that Kuina didn't survive whatever had suddenly afflicted her. He looks up at Ace, who is sullenly staring down at the scene from where he stands.

"I'm so sorry I'm late..." Sanji murmurs, directed at them both. At everyone, if they had heard.

His fingers run through Nami's hair, to the back of her head and he squeezes her shoulder, pressing her close as her body trembles. He takes a moment to look around the room. Usopp is sitting on his own, head in his hands, he looks like he's been crying and wants to be left alone. Sabo is standing beside Ace, a lost expression on his face. He looks like he's been crying too.

"Where's Zoro?" Sanji asks Ace, still holding Nami.

"Zoro left maybe 10 minutes ago. Luffy went after him," he explains.

"How'd he look?"

"Angry. Sad. I don't know. Both."

Sanji nods. "Hard to tell with him."

"Yeah."

Sanji's grip on Nami loosens as she detangles herself from him and composes herself. Sanji asks if she's okay and she nods slowly, sniffling.

"It's so awful," she says. "I just saw her the other day. This is so sudden. What the hell."

"I know," Sanji replies, his voice comforting and soft. "Do we know...what happened?"

"The doctor said it was something called epidural hemo...something, basically internal bleeding in the brain is what I gathered," Sabo expounds. "She fell down some stairs today, hit her head and walked it off. She was apparently fine until later tonight, had a really bad headache, Zoro said, when they were going to bed. Then he got up a couple hours later and she wouldn't wake up. But she was totally coherent when she talked to him before. Doctor said it's rare, but she had "talk-and-die" syndrome, caused by delayed bleeding in the brain. That's what he said."

"It's unreal," Ace says, eyebrows furrowed. "I can't believe it."

"That's unfair," Sanji says quietly, then, a little louder, "That's too unfair."

He can't imagine how Zoro must feel to have his girlfriend senselessly taken from him like that. Everyone knows just how much Zoro loves Kuina, even if he didn't show it much. Must feel like a part of him has been ripped right out of his chest. He's worried, but he knows he shouldn't be—this is Zoro. He'll get through it, no matter what. And yet, he's unsettled.

As Robin and Franky step through the door, their expressions fall as the defeat on the group's faces speaks for itself (like it had for him only moments before) and Sanji realizes that nothing will be the same again. Not for any of them.

Not for Zoro.

* * *

Three days later, there's a rite dedicated to Kuina's memory. It's outside of Vancouver, hours north in the British Colombian wilderness at a native reserve whose band agreed to allow the rite at their chapel, for the convenience of those she'd met in the city, as well as her family and tribe who lived way, way north in the Yukon.

Her father, Koshiro, is a tall, eloquent and knowledgeable looking man with circular glasses and long hair tied back into a ponytail. He happens to be the spiritual leader of his tribe, and conducts the ceremony with such strength and poise, Sanji is in awe of it. The man has just lost his _daughter_. How can he stand up there right now like a professional? He knows where the girl had gotten that thirst for knowledge from, as well as that burning passion. He's always respected her greatly for those traits, he realizes.

Kuina's name is never spoken throughout the ceremony, for fear of calling her spirit back to earth, to allow her spirit to continue on its journey. They don't bury her, but she is cremated and the urn is on a table in sight of everyone. It will be taken back north to her homeland. At one point, Koshiro passes down a hunting knife with a white handle to Zoro, bestowing him with it. It was Kuina's, of course, now meant for her to keep watch over Zoro. Apparently it's a great honour, as destroying her past possessions is important in helping her spirit move on and not be tethered to her past life. But Zoro is an exception.

It's all very different – he's never been to a service like this before, in fact he can't say he knows much about native traditions at all, but the whole thing is very spiritually enlightening.

Koshiro guides friends and family with the advice that Kuina's death isn't something to mourn, but to celebrate, and that her passing is nothing more than a part of nature. He explains that nature can be unforgiving, a fact which should be accepted, not fought against. But Sanji can't help but feel sad despite it all. It's simply unfair and no matter how you look at it, in his eyes nature is the biggest fucking asshole of them all. It pisses him off, how senseless this all feels. It shouldn't have been this way.

Everyone's made time to be here. The whole group. Sanji stands between Chopper and Franky, the former who's head is down, doing his best to contain himself and the latter of which who is doing absolutely nothing to contain himself. Sanji isn't sure what to feel himself. The whole thing is so surreal, he's sort of caught in between, like a state of limbo. Maybe he's still in shock.

It's awful that this happened to such a promising young woman. Beautiful, smart, strong and so full of passion and zest for life. He honestly still struggles to believe this is real.

What must he be feeling, is all Sanji can think, as he glances at Zoro sitting on the front bench, still and silent as a statue as Kuina's family struggles to suppress their cries. He wonders if he's blaming himself. Or if he's angry with the world. Or maybe just incredibly sad and hopeless. He wonders. Regardless, he knows the man well enough to see that he's in pain, even if he's not outwardly showing it. He _must_ be in pain. Kuina wasn't just a girlfriend; a lover. She was his one and only soulmate who's just tragically slipped through his fingers. Everyone knew that when they looked at them.

He hasn't managed to get one word in to Zoro these past couple days to express his condolences. It's a rather awkward topic for him as of late. He's hoping to rectify that soon. He knows he has to say _something._ Sanji fully realizes they have a rocky relationship, but he knows at least that there's something deep and intricate built underneath it all. They're friends despite it. And maybe it's only him, but he feels like there's always been something potent lurking between them. It's in the way they lock eyes, sometimes, of soulful looks that makes him feel very...well understood. And trusted? He's never been able to put his finger on it, it's so muted. And strangely intimate. Not in a romantic sense but just...platonically intimate. Would be the best way of describing it. Yeah.

Sometimes, he imagines putting their arguments aside for two fucking seconds to actually speak like normal human beings connecting. It's happened the rare time, but not nearly enough for him to consider it a solid part of their friendship. In fact, despite it all, he's pretty convinced Zoro's not hiding anything – that everything he shows on the surface is just what's there underneath.

Of course, they don't talk about this background stuff. He can barely think about it in his own head without sounding like a total fucking moron, obviously. And he's pretty sure Zoro wouldn't know what the fuck he's talking about, the man's so emotionally constipated. They're too used to routine at this point anyway, anything else would erupt the delicate bubble that is their comfort zones.

That's why this is so hard for Sanji, currently. He has to say _something._ But what can he say to a man he's got no emotional foundation to work off of?

By the time the ceremony's done and everyone's free to talk and roam about, Sanji watches as Zoro sits up and walks straight down the aisle, through the doors and towards his car in the open wintry air. The wary part of him thinks, well, problem taken care of, Zoro's not willing to talk to anyone at the moment and is just going to straight up leave.

But he decides he has to man up. He's probably the only one who hasn't offered his condolences yet and that needs to be rectified. He's not going to wait until after the goddamn _funeral_ to say a simple hey, sorry for your loss.

He catches up with Zoro just as the man opens the door to his car, and he has to jog to do it. "Hey, Zoro, wait up."

Zoro doesn't face him, eyes focused on the roof of his car, hand frozen on the door. But he does stop, and he is silent, his strong grip on the hunting knife bestowed to him causing his hand to shake. He is in a lot of pain, Sanji realizes all at once. More pain than he could have imagined. Perhaps that shouldn't be as surprising as it is.

It throws him off but he continues, "I just wanted to say...I'm sorry about what's happened. It's..." he pauses, finding the one word that's been stuck on his mind since this happened. "...unfair."

Zoro says nothing, simply gets in his car and drives off. Snow drifts and falls on Sanji's hair and shoulders, the cold air in the dead of February relentless as he stands there, shivering, his jacket inside, watching Zoro's car speed off down the road. It's then that he is reminded, true to Koshiro's words, how harsh and unforgiving a force nature is.

* * *

"He _quit_?"

"Yeah, couple days ago. Pretty much right after the funeral," Ace reveals, sipping on a beer in Sanji's apartment.

Ace got Zoro a job when he'd first moved to Vancouver five years ago, working at the airport on the runways. Line job. They both worked together and stuck with it all this time. So to hear Zoro quit was...surprising. Even given the circumstances.

"I know things are hard right now but I didn't expect him to just quit his job. Why not take a leave? They'd understand. How's he holding up, do you know?"

Ace shrugs. "I got no idea. He hasn't been around. I don't blame him for not wanting to be around people right now."

"Hasn't been around?"

"I haven't seen or heard from him. I'm guessing he's just taking some time to himself at his place. Probably best he figures this out on his own."

Sanji isn't so sure about that. He knows what it's like to suffer alone, in silence. It's never a good idea, at least not for the long term. But giving people space, especially a guy like Zoro, is always necessary when the hurt's still raw. And he knows he wouldn't be the one to interfere, anyway. That's probably a job for Luffy.

"Yeah..." Sanji reluctantly agrees. It's all he can do. He can't stop thinking about the way Zoro's fist shook as he held that knife, the last image he has of the man. He was in so much pain, it shocked Sanji to his core. There's no way that breed of hurt is manageable alone.

"You're really worried, aren't you?" Ace asks, intrigued.

"Shouldn't I be? The guy just lost his girlfriend. Quit his job, hard worker like that? What am I supposed to think?" Sanji responds, words brimming with overcompensation. He takes a large gulp from his glass of merlot.

Ace shakes his hands, stopping Sanji's rant right there. "No, no, you have every right to be worried. Just didn't think you would be. At least not this much. Not for Zoro. You guys are always so...tense around each other."

"He pisses me off but I don't...I don't _hate_ him. I'm not a complete asshole, I have empathy." He swallows another large mouthful of wine before grabbing the bottle to pour himself more. Then he makes his way to the fridge, glaring at Ace all the way for that annoying shake of his empty bottle. He was no goddamn bartender, at least not at home.

"Tell that to the list of girls you've never called back," he jokes.

Sanji tenses at that, putting the beer back inside the fridge and slamming the door closed. "You want a beer? Forget it."

Ace slumps. "Noo, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I know you didn't actually have sex with them first."

"You're making this _much_ worse on yourself."

"What can be worse than you withholding alcohol?"

"Kicking you out of my apartment and probably my goddamn life."

Ace laughs, though he probably shouldn't, because he knows it's likely Sanji will actually kick him out of his apartment. "Listen, you know I'm kidding. You're probably the biggest softie I know. In fact, shame on _me_ for being surprised you're worried for Zoro."

"I'm not _worried,_ I'm just—"

"In denial...?"

Sanji is taken aback. "What—"

"...About being worried?" Ace finishes his suggestion purposefully late. He has that stupid grin on his face Sanji has come to hate and the blond lunges, pinching the man's ear between his fingers and pulling, hard.

"You _really_ like fucking with me don't you?"

"Ow, _ow_ , you're gonna rip it off—"

"You're such a goddamn pain!"

Ace is laughing through the pain. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, leggo—!" Sanji releases and Ace rubs his ear tenderly. "Ow, _jesus_ , you're like some kind of _supermom_ sometimes."

Sanji scoffs. "Only because you're such a stupid shitty brat."

"You make it too easy, you know," Ace chuckles. "All your overreactions."

"Shut up," Sanji seethes. He changes the shitty subject. "So, how are things with Marco?"

"Good. Think we've moved past our little break. Ready to get back together."

"Nice. Feeling better about the whole thing?" Sanji asks, grabbing Ace that beer he'd confiscated before from the fridge. He pops it open and hands it to his friend.

"Well what a convenient refill as I talk about my feelings," Ace prods, accepting the beer with ease.

Sanji shrugs with a mischievous laugh. "You know how it is when you step into my home."

* * *

Days go by, then weeks, and then an entire month and everyone's trying to maintain a sense of normalcy that just won't come back. The group is plagued by a heavy, morose air, like a suffocating atmosphere off some foreign planet sucking the life from them. It feels alien, not like how things should be. They do what they can, everyone's been seeing more of each other than usual just to check in with one another. Luffy of course is trying his best to keep their spirits up. Luffy is affected, but he always shrouds that with cheery smiles and laughs and an elastic personality.

At the heart of it, they all miss Kuina dearly. And Zoro.

Nobody has heard from Zoro. Apparently he's left the city, as far as Luffy knows. But that was weeks ago. Sanji's got a really bad feeling about this. He knows Zoro _should_ be fine, that's what everyone keeps saying, _it's Zoro._ So then why does he feel like something is very, _very_ wrong?

He doesn't need to be at the Baratie for work until later in the evening, and he knows Usopp doesn't have class today, so he calls him up for some much needed insight. Especially since he's the roommate of Zoro's best friend, who is totally withholding information. Luffy definitely knows something, and maybe Usopp can divulge some of that information.

" _Hey Sanji. What's up?"_ Usopp answers.

"Hey Usopp. You busy?"

" _Nope, just finishing up some edits for a new vid. But I'm ahead of schedule, so I'm free."_

"Nice. Wanna meet for coffee?" Sanji asks.

" _Sure. Same place?"_

"Same place."

" _Cool. Just give me an hour."_

"No prob. See you in a bit." Sanji hangs up.

An hour and a half later, Sanji is sitting across from Usopp at their favourite coffee shop in the city. Sanji has a black Americano in front of him and Usopp some kind of spiced Chai latte with a cranberry lemon muffin that he's currently picking at. Sanji paid for them both, of course, since he'd invited him out.

"Thanks for coming Usopp. I appreciate it," Sanji says, taking a tentative sip from his coffee. It's still too hot for his lips, so he blows on it instead.

"No problem. Today's been kind of laid-back all around, so, it's all good."

Sanji just nods, setting his cup down. He crosses his legs under the table and gets comfortable.

Usopp fidgets with his fingers during the brief silence, quick to break it. "So, um, what's up?"

Sanji sighs. He just needs to get this over with, rip off the metaphysical band-aid, so to speak. The entire month he's kept his concerns to himself, other than Ace, and he's just buzzing with nerves at this point, so the words come pouring out his mouth as soon as he opens it. "Do you know what's going on with Zoro? Isn't there anyone touching base with him – like Luffy? I mean, he's technically _missing_ after losing his girlfriend and I feel like I'm the only one that thinks something is seriously off?"

Usopp seems surprised, and Sanji already sees where that expression is going to take the conversation.

" _Oh_ , this is about Zoro?"

He resists the urge to kick Usopp straight in the gut from across the table. "Shit, why are you people always so surprised? _Yes,_ I'm concerned for someone I've known for _5 years_. I _do_ have a heart. _Shocking._ "

Usopp puts his hands out in front of him. "No, really, I'm not surprised. Just shocked I didn't put it together sooner. That makes a whole lot of sense, actually. Now that I think about it. You've been so off lately, I mean I just figured Kuina's...death was hitting you hard. Not that it hasn't been, but...this makes sense, somehow...you being worried about Zoro."

Sanji smiles softly as Usopp struggles with his words. He's probably nervous, thinking Sanji wants to kick him (well, he did consider that a second ago so he can't blame the guy entirely) but Usopp probably doesn't realize he's already making Sanji feel better about the situation. The guy's so sensitive and so observant. He's always appreciated Usopp in the group for that softness, as someone he can really be human with. He finds he can show his gentler side with Usopp more easily than with the other guys. It's comfortable. It's nice.

"And to be honest, I'm worried too," Usopp expands. "Luffy was keeping in touch with Zoro in the beginning, but he's lost contact with him for close to 3 weeks now."

Sanji's eyes widen in shock. "So he's been missing for 3 weeks? Shit." It's good to have his concerns validated. Feels like a weight's been lifted off him. He knew speaking with Usopp would be a good idea.

"Yeah. I think even Luffy's getting worked up about it," Usopp mentions. "He has complete faith in Zoro – that he'll be okay, that he'll come back and all that. But the fact that Zoro stopped talking to him...I think it's bothering Luffy, deep down."

"Hm," Sanji vocalizes, deep in thought. "So does Luffy know where Zoro is? Last he heard anyway?"

"I tried getting that from him. He wouldn't budge. All he's said is Zoro went up north...like tundra north, back home. But I feel like that was already obvious enough," Usopp explains, taking a sip from his latte. "He doesn't want to talk about it, most of the time."

Sanji shakes his head. "Doesn't that idiot realize Zoro could be in real danger? That guy can barely take care of himself here in the city. Never cooks meals for himself, gets lost _constantly_ – I mean _constantly._ Literally could not be alone anywhere without someone holding his hand. He took midnight naps on _bus stop benches_ like a homeless dude, I mean..."

Usopp laughs lightly. "I agree with Luffy, I have faith Zoro's probably fine. Physically, anyway. Emotionally, that's another story. So I agree with you too. I think someone needs to do something about it and make sure he's not doing himself more harm than good."

Sanji is so relieved to hear this. So he's not the only one. "Usopp, thank you. It's good that I'm not the only one who thinks this."

A warm laugh escapes Usopp. "You don't have to worry about us judging you for being concerned. You two are definitely...complicated, but we all know you're friends. I'm sure he would do the same for you."

"I don't know about that," Sanji says, shaking his head. When he looks across from him and sees Usopp is about to disagree with a long spiel, he dishonestly concedes to spare him the trouble. "But, maybe, yeah. He would."

In actuality, he was pretty certain Zoro hated his guts – not the way Sanji half-heartedly did. The real deal, full blown hatred. Perhaps not at every waking moment, but enough to make Sanji feel constantly scrutinized and generally despised. Zoro worrying about him was something that never even passed as a thought in Sanji's mind, let alone a reality.

"Maybe you should come over and talk to Luffy when you get the chance. If I've got someone else coming at him with the same concerns, he might budge," Usopp suggests.

"Sure," Sanji concurs, taking a long sip from his coffee which is of bearable temperature now. "When's a good time for you guys? I work tonight but I'm off tomorrow."

"Hmm, I have a lecture in the morning and a lab in the afternoon. Probably sometime in the evening would be good for me. I don't think Luffy's going to the comedy club tomorrow night either, he's been pushing me to finish doing some game commentary with him around then for the channel. I'll keep you posted but tomorrow evening good?"

"Works for me. I'll drop by around dinner, bring you nerds some grub."

Usopp's eyes light up immediately. "Make us that _awesome_ mackerel you made last time!"

Sanji laughs. He loves that look on his friends' faces when they learn that he'll be cooking for them. "Normally you know I'd say you eat whatever the fuck I give you and don't complain, but for you right now Usopp? Anything."

* * *

The next evening, Sanji is true to his word as he places down plates of grilled mackerel, wild rice, vegetables and a lime ginger sauce drizzled on top. He puts down a bottle of soy sauce in the middle of the coffee table, where he, Luffy and Usopp are sitting around. Luffy is on the floor across from him, while Usopp is beside him on the couch, the two younger men already happily munching away. Luffy fires up Netflix in the background and puts on _Back to the Future Part II._

"Hey, Luffy, my old man's been bugging me about that money you owe him again," Sanji reminds. "Says he's gonna start taking limbs."

"Moeh? Whud moeh?" Luffy inquires through a mouthful of food.

Sanji hits him on the head. "Don't talk with your mouth full like that, shitty rubber."

The group has nicknamed Luffy 'rubber' because he's double-jointed and can bend in all sorts of unnatural ways as well as make crazy facial expressions, so he's like an elastic man to them. They also think it's funny to refer to him as slang for a condom.

Luffy makes a point to swallow, then clarifies, "What money?"

Sanji leans in. "Remember when we first met 5 years ago, you and Usopp made a bet," he side eyes Usopp ominously, who shrinks in his seat, "on who could hit the lamp beside Baratie's sign first, and you fired a rock through the front window pane of the restaurant and shattered the whole fucking thing? _That_ money."

"Didn't I give that money to him already?"

"You gave him $11.45 on the spot, all in change, and washed dishes for us for an evening."

"Oh. How much do I owe again?"

"Something around 3 grand."

" _Fuck_. Well tell him I forgot. I'll get it to him soon."

Usopp leans into Sanji's ear as the latter sighs. "He's never going to see that money."

"I know. Luffy you're lucky he never went to a lawyer about this," Sanji says.

"Well, Zeff's a good guy, you know? I think he's forgiven me." Confident in his words, Luffy shovels more rice into his mouth.

"I wouldn't call threatening to chop off your limbs and feeding them to stray cats very forgiving, but have it your way," Sanji mumbles under his breath. Beside him, Usopp hears and recoils. He decides to lighten the mood. "So how's the video coming, Usopp?"

Luffy and Usopp run a YouTube channel called _Straw Hat & Goggle_ where they do comedy videos, mostly focused on gaming, movies and TV shows. They do commentary over all sorts of media, as well as some scripted and improvisational comedy sketches. It's a very well-rounded channel, and between the two idiots, it's actually very well done. Usopp is the foundation, the coder, the editor, the writer, the hard worker. Luffy provides the true comedy, he's spontaneous and gives the channel life. They make a good team. It's actually doing well, getting more and more views by the day. They make a modest chunk of money off of it, not enough to live off of, but a welcomed amount for sure.

On top of that, Usopp is an engineering student and even runs a small word-of-mouth business around his campus fixing phones and computers for extra cash on the side. He keeps himself very busy, and his work with Luffy is mostly for fun. He never expected it to do as well as it is now.

Luffy is more seriously into the world of comedy. He hangs out at all the comedy clubs, works at one part time and does 10 minute sets on amateur nights. Some people enjoy his weird style of comedy, which Sanji can barely understand, and it's possible he's starting to make a name for himself now in the city. Luffy is dedicated 110%, so Sanji is confident he will do well in the entertainment industry, wherever he ends up, as long as he gets to make people smile and laugh.

Usopp perks up instantly at Sanji's curiosity. "I'm almost done with edits. Definitely on schedule with it. We can post it when we said, Luffy. It's turning out better than I thought. Did a couple all-nighters on it because I got so excited."

"Awesome! I can't wait to see how you worked your magic this time, Usopp," Luffy exclaims, giving Usopp a high-five.

"What's this one about, anyway?" Sanji asks, bringing a forkful of rice to his mouth.

"Resident Evil parody," Usopp says with a smile as he takes another delicious bite of mackerel. His voice is muffled when he continues, "You'll see. It's great."

Sanji smirks. "I'll check it out for sure."

The conversation dies down for a moment and they all eat and watch while Marty McFly screams in terror as he's almost eaten by a holographic shark from the box office of Jaws 19.

"This is supposed to be 2015? What the fuck," Usopp comments, skeptical.

"I wish it was like this a year ago," Luffy jumps in. "Usopp, you should invent a hover board! I want one."

Sanji tunes them out as Usopp attempts to explain how difficult it would be to invent something like a hover board. He takes their empty plates and rinses them in the sink, leaving them there to wash later. When he goes back to his friends, they're silent again as they watch the movie.

He uses this chance to bring up the sensitive topic of Zoro's whereabouts. "So, Luffy, have you heard anything from Zoro these days?"

Luffy dodges the question, which Sanji fully expects. "I wouldn't worry too much about him. He's fine. He just needs to be on his own right now."

"You sure?" Sanji asks. "I know he's a loner, but we all know how much Kuina meant to him. I don't think anybody should be alone at a time like this."

"He'll be okay. He'll probably be back next week," Luffy shrugs, frowning.

"Is that what he said?" Sanji prods. He can see that he's striking a nerve with Luffy, and it's a good thing. It means he's scrutinizing him in the right place.

"...No."

"When's the last time you heard from him?" Sanji asks calmly, already aware of the answer Luffy will give. If he gives it.

"It doesn't matter, he'll come back."

"How long?"

"...3 weeks. But I know he's fine."

"3 _weeks_?" Sanji feigns shock. Well, his reaction is still half-true, even if it's not exactly the first time he's heard this. "You think he's fine but it's been nearly a month since he contacted you?"

"He just needs some time to himself. I wouldn't sweat it."

Sanji makes sure to catch Luffy's eyes as he lays this on him. "I think you sound pretty worried, Luffy."

Luffy looks away, clearly conflicted. "I know he's fine. I just don't know why he stopped talking to me. That wasn't part of the plan, you know? He told me he was going back home to do some thinking, and that he would keep in touch. He said that if he ran out of bars, he'd find a way to email me, and if not that, he'd mail me a post card. But I've gotten nothing for weeks. That wasn't part of the plan."

"I see." Sanji leans back. There's a soft, pensive pause in conversation as they all mull. "What do you plan to do?"

Luffy shakes his head. "I can't do anything. He told me not to come after him, no matter what. I promised I wouldn't." He looks at Sanji again with renewed energy. "But I know he's fine. I trust him to come back."

Sanji sighs through his nose. That makes a world of sense, why Luffy hasn't done anything yet. Zoro specifically told him not to, and he's respecting that wish. "I trust him to come back too. But that doesn't mean he should be going through this alone, as much as he thinks he needs to. That moron, pulling this lone wolf act. That fucking moron." The last couple sentences Sanji muttered to himself.

Luffy studies Sanji closely, and smiles. "Sanji, you're super worried too, aren't you?"

Sanji shifts, brushing the comment off and not responding to it directly. "He's probably lost up there, not eating right, you know? Idiot can't even take care of himself in the city."

Again, Luffy smiles with intrigue, like he's just realized something. "Sanji...you don't know about Zoro's life up there, do you? He never talked about it much with you, huh?"

Frowning, Sanji recalls what he knows, "I just know he lived with Kuina's tribe in the Yukon. Think he said something about originally being from Alaska, once."

Usopp butts in, smirking. "You never went camping with us, either."

"What does it matter?" Sanji asks, feeling cornered by the two.

"You'll see," Luffy says, tone mischievous. "When's the last time you got out of the city, anyway?"

"I don't know. A while I guess," Sanji answers, defensive. He hasn't left Vancouver in probably 3 years. He's always enjoyed the city. He can't justify straying too far from Zeff, either. He hopes they're not suggesting...

"More like _years_. I can't remember the last time you took a trip anywhere," Usopp spurs, glancing at Luffy.

"I _can't_ go look for him. That's a wild goose chase I wouldn't wish upon anyone," Sanji disagrees wholeheartedly. "Plus, Zeff would never give me the time off. You know that."

"Sanji," Luffy says his name with a lower tone. He's getting serious now. "I know you and Zoro fight a lot. I know you guys have had some rough times. But I think it would be good for you to see where he comes from, so that you can understand why he is the way he is. And I think of any of us, he would be the most surprised to see you. It would probably speak the loudest, and make him come back sooner."

Sanji's brows furrow, his response pending. What can he even say to that? He has to agree with Luffy's logic – Zoro probably thinks Sanji hates him, so if Sanji is the one to find him, he'd recognize that his absence is taking a toll on _everyone_. It would provide a real sense of immediacy and urgency.

And damn if he can't admit that he's maybe a little interested in pre-city Zoro, what his life was like. From what little glimpses he's caught, it sounds like an intense story to be heard. Fuck if he's not worried as well, he's been worried this entire month, and he wants to be the one to do something about it.

Curse his extremely compassionate nature, and over an idiot like Zoro, too.

Luffy speaks up again when Sanji stays quiet. "I really need this from you. You're the only one who can do this."

Sanji looks over to Usopp who's leaning forward on the couch, his elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped. He looks between the two and nods a couple times, affirming what Luffy's saying.

Sanji swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair before slowly nodding in agreeance. "Alright, dammit. Fine. I'll go on one condition."

"Shoot!"

"Anything."

"You guys provide the cigarettes. I'll need a shit ton."

tbc

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

                                       

 

 

**Northland**

_sundown, pt. I_

 

 

"Can't believe you guys are making me drive all the way up there _alone,_ " Sanji groans, dropping his duffel bag down overtop a multi-pack box of Marlboro cigarettes Usopp had so kindly ordered for him online. It was part of the deal, after all. He's already dug into it, the box open, its contents incomplete as Sanji perches one between his lips and sparks his lighter in the underground garage of his apartment complex. "Seriously? No one's going to come with?"

Franky places other important supplies in the backseat, before readjusting the winter jacket draped over his forearm. "Sorry chef bro, I'm too busy with work. It's not going to be a quick trip up there, and all. I mean, I would if no one else was...but you'll do fine."

Sanji angrily plucks the jacket from Franky's arm and sets it overtop the duffel back on the front passenger seat. "Whoever said _I_ wasn't busy with work? I'm lucky Zeff didn't fire my ass for this shit. Luffy, remind me why I'm doing this again?"

Luffy's grin is wide. "Well...because you're super nice and you want to do me a really big solid?"

Lunging forward, Sanji grabs the younger man's cheeks, stretching and pulling them as he shakes that stupid face in fury. "Goddamn you shitty rubber, I'll cut off your limbs and send them to Zeff myself!"

Franky is smiling as he watches their antics from his peripheral vision while he places three jerry cans of fuel in the back of his blue jeep, accompanied by a hose and funnel. "You're gonna need these. Gas stations are hard to come by the farther up you go."

Sanji releases Luffy, who rubs his cheeks sorely, and then stares at the jerry cans with a sour look on his face. "Yeah. Thanks," the blond says flatly with a slight pout.

"You'll be alright, chef man," Franky assures with a great big smile, casually patting the roof of the jeep with the help of his hulking form. "This baby will take good care of you. She's built to go off-road, just keep her fed. And I suited her up for winter, since she's been sitting in my garage a few seasons now."

Franky is lending Sanji his jeep (only one of his many vehicles) as Sanji's car is nowhere near suited for the kind of roads he's going to be navigating up in the Yukon. The man is a shipwright for the navy by trade, but he's also a very proficient mechanic. And married to Robin, the lucky bastard, who has her own career in archeology research.

Usopp seems to have a knack for mechanics, too, and frequently works with the burly man, almost like a casual apprentice. Unfortunately, that world is a bit beyond Sanji—he's not an idiot, but he can admit he's not a car guy—so Franky's preparations are much appreciated.

In that moment, Brook towers over Sanji—honestly, he can never get used to how obscenely tall the man is—and places three plain disks in their own separate sleeves into Sanji's hands. "I put these together for you just in case your radio signal gives out. It would get lonely up there without something to listen to."

"Thanks, Brook," he says, placing the disks in the passenger seat. He jokes, "I guess I'm forced to trust your taste in music."

"Of course, what a pity," the tall, boney man smiles. "And when you see Zoro, tell him when he comes back we can crack open that bottle of Glennfiddich I've been hoarding. I know he's been drooling over it for a while now."

Sanji laughs. "I've already stocked up on liquor and beer to lure him out, but I'll tempt him with that too. God, you're both hopeless alcoholics."

"I don't see another way for two men to bond," Brook jests, placing an encouraging hand on Sanji's shoulder. "Take care, Sanji. We'll be here when you two are back."

Sanji nods, wondering if Brook just gave away Zoro's secret, a tip on getting through that thick shell of his. Everyone knew when Zoro drank it softened him up a bit—not a lot, but enough to make a difference—though it's never worked that well for Sanji exclusively. Then again, he's pretty sure he's never had a drinking session with Zoro alone. He makes sure to keep the suggestion in mind for later.

"It's March so winter's almost done here, but up there it'll still be pretty cold," Chopper makes his mark, jumping into the conversation. "Make sure you pile on the layers. I grew up near Whitehorse, I know how cold that area gets, but since you'll be even more north, you have to be more careful. Cover your face and extremities and wear the stuff I gave you. Frost bite and hypothermia's no joke." The 20 year old may be a student of veterinary medicine and wildlife biology, but he's got a lot of medical knowledge for humans, too. That's why he's such a fusspot when it comes to this stuff.

"Yeah, I know Chopper..."

"And watch the roads for animals, especially at night."

"For sure, I'll be careful—"

"And if you see a bear—"

"Yeah, _believe me,_ I looked up what to do if I see one of those," Sanji cuts Chopper off. Then, his features loosen and he grins wildly. "Shit my pants."

Immediately, Chopper gets flustered and claims that Sanji's taking this way too lightly, to which Sanji laughs and calms the younger man down by stating he knows full well he needs to be careful, and was merely kidding. He envelops Chopper by the shoulder and shakes him jovially until the younger of them cracks a smile.

Bears and frost bite are quite honestly the least of Sanji's concerns once he gets up there. Encountering Zoro and figuring out how to get through to him, that's what terrifies him. Honestly...why did he agree to do this? He remembers Luffy's words a couple days ago, telling him he's the only one for the job because Zoro will take his presence more seriously than the rest. Is that really the truth? Or will he travel all that way just to be shoved off like he normally is?

Usopp makes knowing eye contact with Sanji, like he can tell what he's thinking. His eyes say _You'll do fine,_ and for a moment it's downright inspiring, but then the geek goes and gives the blond a thumbs up. Sanji can do nothing else but shake his head and smirk. What a dork.

Once the jeep is fully prepped and Sanji's ready to go, Luffy hands him an empty milk jug. Sanji takes it and stares down at it with confusion.

"What the hell's this, Luffy?"

"Well, if you want to save time instead of making pit-stops, you can pee in this! It was a helpful trick the last time I did a major road trip," he says with a shining grin.

Sanji's expression morphs into pure disgust as he slams the jug on the pavement and it bounces off, hitting Usopp square in the nose. The latter moans in the background and rubs his nose as Sanji rages.

"A piss jug!? That's fucking _nasty!_ You've been marathoning too much Trailer Park Boys you shitty bum!"

"I'm telling you, it's handy, Sanji! Take it!" Luffy urges, picking up the bottle and struggling to hand it back to the cook as Sanji slaps it away again.

" _No!_ Get that shit away from me! I'll make stops like a normal person!"

Robin chuckles as she watches them struggle. Her timing ironic, she steps in as they settle down and hands him a dispensable cup of coffee from his favourite café. "You'll probably need this to perk you up for the long drive ahead," she says with a warm smile. "I hope it doesn't force you to stop too soon."

Sanji flushes with embarrassment as he accepts the coffee. "Thank you so much Robin, that's very thoughtful."

She giggles softly and the laugh sends shivers through his body. He loves her laugh, he always has. Robin is so mature, so mysterious and so knowledgeable. She's the epitome of an adult, a real woman, and it's probably why he reverts into a shy little boy in front of his mother in her presence if he's really being honest with himself.

She leans forward and gives him a light peck on the cheek and Sanji's blush deepens. "Thanks for going through the trouble, Sanji. We all appreciate it. Don't get mauled now."

The flush to his cheeks pales rapidly at her words. Indeed, he adores Robin, but she can be so morbid at times. He tries very hard to laugh smoothly through his nervous smile, "I won't."

Nami, who's been standing next to Robin the entire time, steps forward with a stern expression. "Keep in contact with us all the way. I know how you get, Sanji. Don't be an idiot and take this on by yourself. We're still here to help."

The blond man scratches the back of his neck as she scolds him mercilessly for things he hasn't yet done. He knows her well enough to recognize that she's doing it out of concern, that's how she functions, and so he's back to blushing again. "Of course, Nami. I'll keep in touch. You don't have to worry about that."

She pulls him into a hug, squeezing him tightly. "The GPS unit in there is top of the line. You shouldn't get lost."

He returns the hug after a moment, wrapping his arms around her with a content smile. "I'm not like that idiot," he murmurs, patting her gently as she chuckles in his arms.

"Make sure he comes back," she demands softly before separating.

Motivation and passion revived (having the girls depend on him always did lend a helping hand there) Sanji assures her, "If I have to kick that moron all the way back here, I will."

* * *

                                        

Smoke pools out his mouth and erupts in the wind as Sanji sighs, draws in once more, and exhales again. He puts the window up hastily, the cold air biting at his cheeks and neck. He'd driven all day yesterday and the drive was never-ending, considering it's impossible to make it to the border in one day alone. This is his second day on the road and he crossed the provincial border in the morning. He considered Whitehouse a checkpoint that afternoon, but that feeling of accomplishment has worn off by now.

He's kept in touch with his friends, mostly Usopp and Nami, who seem to need those calls the most.

Now, he's just dying to reach some kind of town, houses, _anything_ that resembles civilization. He passed a couple towns, stopped in others, if you can consider them towns even (rural stops is more like it). All he's had to work with for the past three hours now is the empty road ahead and trees upon trees upon _fucking trees._ He praises whoever's looking after him from above when patches of tundra or stretches of water fly by, simply for gifting him with a change of scenery. He can't even begin to count how many animals he's nearly hit, practically giving him a goddamn heart attack (to his credit, no incidents or fatalities). He's tired, he's edgy, he's hungry, but he doesn't want to stop on the side of the road for a break, he just wants to get this damn drive over with.

It's maddening. Who in their right mind would ever live up here? Oh, right. Zoro. Well, that explains that.

Some segments have been quite breathtaking though. It's just hard for him to admit when he's so restless. The sun's going down now, colouring the sky with a rare display of pinks and oranges. With winter coming to an end by the end of the month, he supposes this is a much welcomed prelude to spring.

Sanji nearly slams his forehead on the wheel with angry relief (there is such a thing with him) when he catches the sign for Highway 5.

Hands tense on the wheel. "Fucking _finally."_

When Sanji makes the turn minutes later, it feels even more like he's heading to the edge of the planet. The road isn't paved, which grates on his already amped up nerves. It's getting pretty dark now, and he has no clear idea of when he'll reach his destination, since he's heading for a village the GPS can't even pick up on. All he knows is he's on the right road and will have to depend on signs. Hungry, thirsty, tired, sore and in severe need of a piss, he's become seriously agitated and realizes he needs to pull over to preserve his sanity. His eyes are drooping far too much and he's losing focus on the road. He'd been able to do long stretches when he first hit the road, but now it's become difficult to go much over three hours.

He's plain exhausted.

Sanji pulls over and takes a 15 minute break. He relieves himself on the side of the road while finishing his smoke. Back in the warmth of the jeep he's munching on a kale and quinoa salad with grilled chicken he prepared for himself back in Vancouver, perfectly chilled from the cooler in the back of the jeep.

Before he'd left, Luffy had given him a slip of paper with detailed directions for the village in which Kuina and Zoro were from. Apparently Kuina knew more than anyone Zoro's habit of drifting back north, and figured it was imperative that someone from the group have this information other than her. Smart girl, because her father Koshiro is going to be key on finding Zoro, after all.

If Zoro didn't touch base with the village in the past couple weeks, Koshiro would at least be able to help Sanji track him down. No one would know better than him Zoro's habits up here. This kind of territory is lost even on someone as close to Zoro as Luffy.

Sanji's back on the road and drives for two more hours, keeping a close eye on road signs for the small village he's looking for, Frost Moon. Kuina's instructions mention the native name for it is Sroo Oozrii', so he keeps a lookout for that too. It's damn dark now, and he considers pulling over for the night, realizing he's going to have to sleep in the damn car and pray that no bears break into it in the middle of the night. With all the fucking booze he's got rattling around in the back, here's hoping that it attracts a Zoro instead and cuts this trip short.

The jeep's high-beams reflect off a small wooden sign and he presses hard on the brakes to make sure he reads it correctly. The jeep slows in front of it as he reads it, grinning and thanking the heavens that he's found it. Sroo Oozrii', with its English translation written in smaller print below. Frost Moon.

He finally fucking made it.

Turning the wheel, Sanji makes a tentative left onto a very narrow dirt road, carefully lining the jeep up and avoiding trees and large rocks. He gasps and slams on the brakes when a large deer appears in front of him, stops and stares – antlers, a male – Sanji is in awe of its size and elegance as they exchange looks before it sprints off into the trees. His heart beating wildly in his chest – he'd almost hit the damn thing – Sanji eases slowly off the brake and rolls the jeep forward.

Small, modest cabin-like houses begin to appear, until finally he finds the heart of the town, if it can be called one. It's hard to see beyond the limits of the car's lights, but it appears very old-fashioned and simplistic. He wonders, this must be one of the native reserves he's heard about up north. It looks eerie at night like this, so barren and rural. Almost all of the windows in the houses are dark, not many appear to be up at this hour. Some houses have a window or two lit, but Sanji decides it's far too late in the night to bother anyone. He'll have to camp out in the jeep until morning, and find Koshiro then.

He shuts off the headlights and presses a button on the centre of the roof above, filling the jeep's interior with light. He then crawls into the backseat and moves a bunch of shit to the front. With the backseats clear save for his pillow and sleeping bag, Sanji unrolls the sleeping bag, then reaches over the front passenger's seat to grab his coat. He knows it's going to get cold without the heat on, so he makes sure to bundle up with his jacket before cocooning himself in the thick sleeping bag. He settles in, finding himself surprisingly cozy (he blames his exhaustion – laying down in his condition is certainly comfortable right now). He presses the thought of bears circling outside at the very back of his mind as he drifts further and further into a deep slumber.

There's a knock deep in his subconscious, then a couple more, and he doesn't wise up to its whereabouts until the knocks get louder and pull him from sleep, until his eyelids flicker open and he realizes someone or some _thing_ is knocking on the window of the jeep. Adrenaline kicks in quickly, and he jumps up, eyes wide, unsure of what to do. The rhythm of the knocks seem to be civilized, seem to have a pattern characteristic of a human being. He fucking hopes bears aren't able to imitate that.

A bright light suddenly bursts into the car – a flashlight shining in, Sanji realizes – and he's sure it's not a bear now, but that doesn't calm his nerves. Will he be welcomed this far north, this far from home, suspiciously sitting right outside this small village in the dead of night? He squints as the light shines on his face, and brings a hand to cover his irritated eyes.

Then he hears a muffled voice from outside. "Saw you drive up. You lost? Need a place to stay the night?"

Oh thank fuck.

Sighing in relief, Sanji unlocks the back door and steps out with the sleeping bag around him. The cold air goes right through him regardless and he shivers. The flashlight is pointed downwards, presumably not to blind him as they talk.

"I'm actually looking for a friend of mine, and I think someone here can help," Sanji explains. "Know a man named Koshiro?"

"Koshiro? Of course. His house is right over there," the man points his flashlight in the direction of a cabin in the distance. "Are you a friend of his daughter's?"

"Yeah," Sanji confirms. "What happened was so unfortunate, and I'm trying to track down Zoro, actually."

The man nods. "Zoro's not around. Kid always did prefer living in the bush to here. But Koshiro would know better than anyone where he'd be."

Intrigued, Sanji hums then laughs softly. "The city never did seem to suit him."

"I'll go see if Koshiro's awake. Follow me with your car, it's right over here," the man says, pointing and then walking off.

"Thanks," Sanji says after him, before climbing into the front seat and turning the jeep on. He slowly rolls the jeep beside the man until he indicates which cabin is Koshiro's, and while the man goes to the front door, Sanji pulls in and parks.

By the time he makes it to the front, Koshiro has opened the door and is already in a brief conversation with the man. Koshiro seems to squint to get a good look at Sanji as the blond steps up, then a gentle smile sprouts on his face.

"I remember you from the ceremony. Come in, come in," Koshiro beckons, then pauses a moment, "Oh, wait. Is there any food in your car?"

"Ah, yeah, some," Sanji responds.

"Let's take that inside first. Can't be too careful with bears."

Koshiro and the other man help Sanji take out any and all food he can recall being in the vehicle and move it inside Koshiro's cabin. By the time they're done the man goes to bed for the night, and Sanji thanks him for all his help.

"Tea or coffee to warm you up?" Koshiro offers while handing Sanji a quilt as the blond sits on the couch.

Sanji accepts the quilt and begins to unfold it. "Tea would be great, thank you."

Koshiro puts a kettle full of water on the stovetop. "As I was saying, you were at the ceremony – you're a friend of my daughter's. What brings you all the way here so late at night?"

Sanji scratches the back of his head. "I'm sorry for the hour. It was a long drive up and I just got here now. I was going to sleep in my car and wait until morning to—"

Koshiro smiles as he prepares the tea pot. "Not to worry, young man. I'm happy Siluk saw you arrive so I could give you a warm place to sleep for the night. That kind of thing's important up here. We don't only take care of our own."

"I really appreciate it," Sanji says with a small smile. Kuina's father has such a calming air about him, he's gentle and wise. It's different than the kind of father Zeff's been to him, but Koshiro is definitely another father figure Sanji can respect. He wonders if Zoro considers him a father in any capacity. "I'm so sorry for your loss," Sanji practically blurts out. He can't help it, thinking about such things.

There's calm silence before the man responds. "I wouldn't be sorry. I don't see it as a loss, just a change, a transformation. Nothing to feel sorry about."

Sanji nods. He can do nothing else. He doesn't agree. The whole thing feels nothing short of tragic to him. But he won't argue with the man's strength and fortitude to turn the untimely death of his daughter into something positive. He won't ruin the man's profound state of comfort and acceptance, even if he can't himself feel the same.

The kettle screeches and he's asked what he takes in his tea. Sanji tells him just some milk, and seconds later a warm mug is handed to him. He unfurls his arm from the quilt he's wrapped around himself to accept the tea, and thanks Koshiro gratefully. The man simply nods and takes a seat across from him in the living space.

"Siluk told me you're looking for Zoro," Koshiro comments, taking a sip from his own tea.

"Yeah, I am," Sanji confirms. "My friends are really worried."

Koshiro nods. "You must be too. If I recall you were the one that went to talk to him before he left the ceremony."

Sanji wants to squirm for how uncomfortable it makes him feel that people had noticed he'd done that. He puts the mug to his lips and blows before sipping at it. "Well, I am. We haven't heard from him in weeks."

Koshio hums as if mulling those words over. "I haven't either."

Eyes widening, Sanji puts the mug down to his lap. This is starting to get downright terrifying. "You mean he never communicated with you since the service? I heard he drove up north, I assumed he would have touched base with you at least."

"He did," Koshiro tells him. "Maybe a month ago. He came here, stayed in this cabin for a night. He asked if he could use my yurt further north and I agreed. You see Zoro's always felt more at home in the wild. He's a bit of a nut that way." He laughs, "I just let him do whatever he felt he needed to."

"But...a month and no contact? Is that really safe? How do you know he's not..."

Koshiro sets his mug down on the wooden coffee table between them, cutting off Sanji's words. "That boy once disappeared for an entire northern winter. We thought he died, but he came back that very spring. His determination out there, it's not of this world. It's something else. Never seen anything like it." Koshiro's eyes are striking as he looks through Sanji and says, "When you see it for yourself, you'll understand. Nothing out there can kill him."

Sanji is speechless. Koshiro's words feel surreal...an entire winter up here in the north? That's got to be _impossible_. He's beginning to realize that the Zoro Koshiro knows and the Zoro he knows are two very different people.

Koshiro continues, "While I'm not worried about his safety, his mental wellbeing is certainly at risk."

"Can't agree more. So can you give me directions to this yurt?" Sanji asks bluntly.

"Of course," Koshiro accedes. "Just a fair warning, he won't be happy to see you. He went up there specifically to sort things out on his own. He and my daughter used to spend a lot of time in that yurt. I'm not sure how warmly you would be welcomed in that space, knowing him."

Sanji swallows. Well, isn't that lovely to know. He's going to be visiting a very private and intimate place where Zoro and Kuina used to fuck, to talk Zoro who _loathes_ him into coming back to the city with him. Things really are turning in his favour here, aren't they? He wants to slam his face right into the densest wooden beam of the coffee table. Fuck his life and this decision _hard_ right now.

Sensing the heavy tension off the blond young man before him, Koshiro smiles and rubs his shoulder. He's just filled the boy with nerves, hasn't he? "Well, I'll give you directions in the morning. For now, rest. I'm sorry I don't have an extra bed, will the couch do?"

"Oh, of course. It's fine. Thank you so much for everything." Sanji sips more of his tea while Koshiro stands and sticks out his hand. Sanji fumbles to accept it.

"Anytime. Well, I'm afraid I'm beat. But before I hit the sack, we didn't get a proper introduction." He shakes Sanji's hand firmly. "I'm Koshiro, so nice to meet you."

Sanji's grip is solid as he returns the gesture. "Sanji. It's a pleasure."

* * *

The next morning Sanji wakes early, a normal habit for him. Koshiro is up shortly after him and they have breakfast together before packing Sanji's jeep back up and preparing for him to leave. Koshiro gives him a slip of paper with instructions on how to get to the yurt. He thanks the man for all his help and slowly drives the jeep out of the small village. The place looks much less creepy with sunlight. Then again it probably only looked eerie to him at night because it was rural and unfamiliar. He sees Siluk, the kind man who'd coaxed Sanji out of the jeep the night before, waving as he passes by. He casually lifts a hand and bids farewell.

The yurt isn't too far. Koshiro said it's a couple hours north of their town. Sanji laughs at himself. He knows it's been a long journey when two hours to him isn't far. He's worried about fitting the jeep through all the narrow pathways. Koshiro warned him it might be tight.

The hours breeze by and Sanji easily finds all the markers that Koshiro had pointed out in his instructions. The man had been very thorough with his directions, which is much appreciated by Sanji now. Getting lost up here would be like drifting out into deep space.

On that note, he has no idea how Zoro could ever manage to navigate his way around here. But if what Koshiro said about Zoro is true, he supposes the man knows forests and valleys much better than streets. It's hard to wrap his head around, honestly – that _he_ could be more at risk of getting himself lost up here.

Finally, as the path leads uphill, he approaches a clearing. There's a deep red yurt perched atop the hill with Zoro's car parked outside. He shifts his grip on the wheel, unease beginning to bubble up within. He's not sure whether to be scared of finding Zoro missing or dead, or of finding him angry and ready to kick his ass. His hands tighten further on the wheel. Since when has he ever been scared of anything when it comes to Zoro? He can't be anything less than resolute right now. If he wavers, Zoro won't take him seriously, and he will have traveled all this way up for nothing.

As he reaches the top, he sees a magnificent view over the hill of barren tundra and valleys, pure white as far as he can see, though some areas are peppered with retreating snow. Behind him is forest. Sanji parks the jeep beside Zoro's car (which is completely coated in snow) and shuts off the engine. He sits there for minutes, pre-emptively stringing together words in his head to say to Zoro should the man be inside. Anything to not get turned away within seconds. The best thing he can come up with is 'I've got lots of booze.'

He lights up a cigarette ferociously.

Finally, after the nicotine rush loosens him up, Sanji steps out of the jeep, feet crunching in the snow. He looks around for footsteps near the entrance as he ambles to the door of the yurt, and doesn't see anything human-like – but it did snow last night, so any trace would be hidden. He does however see paw prints, looking like they could be from a large dog. He wonders if Zoro's got a dog with him. It'd be some form of companionship, at least.

As Sanji steps up to the small door of the yurt, he picks up on scampering sounds to his right, and a jolt runs through him as he stares right into the yellow eyes of a grey wolf, skirting the edge of the forested area. It's far enough away that Sanji is sure it has to be a wolf, given the large size of its body is even from this distance. His heart picks up as it pauses and stares. And then it moves – he steps back instinctively, unsure of what to do if it dashes at him.

The wolf darts off into the forest, disappearing from sight, and Sanji releases the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Holy fuck," escapes his lips. "Shit. Wow."

He's never seen a wolf in person before. That was fucking terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Scrap the idea of Zoro keeping a dog around, those paw prints in the snow were from a fully grown wolf. Jesus.

Heart still racing, Sanji turns to the door, breathes, then tentatively knocks. There's no answer, so he knocks again, this time more forcefully. Still nothing. He goes for the knob, and is surprised to find it does a full turn and opens and before he knows it he's stepping into the yurt, getting an eyeful of its interior.

"Hello...?" he cautiously calls. "Zoro?"

No one's inside, but he realizes it's actually quite cozy in here, disregarding the mess (definitely signs of Zoro's presence). He steps in and walks around slowly, taking in the interior of the yurt. Wooden beams crisscross along the curved walls and there are mats with tribal designs on the floor. There's a bed towards the very back settled on the wood-panelled floor, even a couch at the adjacent corner. Both pieces of furniture seem to be framed with large pieces of authentic log that have been stained. The ceiling has wooden beams converging towards the centre, where they meet with a circular opening that is currently closed up.

Maybe it's a little _too_ cozy, considering there's a clawfoot bathtub sitting at the centre of the yurt, not separated by anything, not even curtains, no privacy whatsoever. It's connected to the woodstove which is slightly off-centre, and he assumes that particular appliance juggles the tasks of warming the yurt, heating the water for the tub, and providing a flat top to cook food. The woodstove's pipe travels up and out of a separate and sealed opening in the yurt's roof, like the chimney of a normal house.

It's disconcerting that Zoro's not around. The only sign that he's been here is that it's messy, but that isn't necessarily a _recent_ sign. His brows furrow and he sighs shortly, wondering where to go from here. Should he wait here for some hours, see if Zoro just stepped out for a bit? Should he look for him in the wilderness? After seeing that wolf only minutes ago, he isn't one hundred percent comfortable with the second idea.

For the time being he decides to wait. He spends the first hour tidying up the yurt, since that's the first thing that'd irked him since walking in. Then, he remembers Koshiro's advice about leaving food in his car, so he unpacks the jeep, taking out any trace of food or drink into the yurt.

After he locks the jeep up, he inevitably attempts to peer into Zoro's car, which looks like it's been abandoned for weeks with all the snow piled on top. Sanji wipes snow from the driver's side window, but it's coated with ice, obscuring his vision of the car's interior and quashing his attempts entirely.

The next couple hours he spends basically twiddling his thumbs inside the yurt, waiting. He manages to get the woodstove going, and he's able to take off his coat to enjoy the cozy temperature. It gets surprisingly hot after a short amount of time, so he snuffs out the flames and lets the wood simmer and glow. The heat forces him to step out into the cold winter weather. He strolls around the perimeter of the yurt, taking in the vast sights over the hill and the endless gorgeous skies.

Sanji had wondered where the toilet was and groans upon spotting it. A wooden outhouse sits probably 10 to 15 feet away from the yurt on the east side. There’s a large pile of chopped wood stacked up under a tarp against the wall of the yurt. It’s then that he sees under the same tarp there’s what looks like a freezer box, securely sealed up with locks. It looks like it’s been broken into more than once, given the warped dents and teeth marks he notices around the frame. Sanji pales and blankets the tarp back over it. That’s...comforting.

Because this place has no electricity, he supposes the best place to keep food frozen is outside during the winter, despite the risk of attracting animals. Jesus fuck. The yurt may be cozy inside, but it's become much less cute to him now.

It's six long hours since he arrived and nearly a full pack of cigarettes later until Sanji's fed up with waiting. He yells Zoro's name outside the yurt, then he drives the jeep back down the path to search more seriously for him. For two hours he drives along the highway, parks on the side of the road, wanders, yells, and repeats. There's no response of course, but at least he feels like he's doing something. The sun is going down, and Sanji's resolve crumbles.

It's only when he decides to return to the yurt that his own uselessness weighs down on him. Where does he go from here? What did he think he could accomplish coming all the way up here? What if he's dead? He's failing his friends, everybody. And if Zoro's alive, even if Zoro did hear him calling his name, did he really expect the man to respond? To _him_? He's such a fucking idiot. This was a stupid fucking idea.

But he fucking _prays_ Koshiro and Luffy are right about Zoro. He wants to believe that he's still alive out there, somewhere, hopefully not injured and dying in the snow. But it's becoming harder and harder to do this the darker the sky gets, the more the day dies, the longer Zoro's missing from the place that's clearly been his resting grounds for weeks. He doesn't know what to think as night paints the sky black.

Sanji returns to the yurt, exhausted, and collapses on the bed, coat and all. " _Fuck,_ " he curses.

The bed is shockingly comfortable. He wishes he could talk to his friends in Vancouver to check in with them, ask for advice. To get back in contact with them he's going to have to drive back to Frost Moon and ask somebody there where the nearest working phone is – his service went out after Whitehorse.

Fuck's sake, he misses the city, dammit. And he's worried himself to the point of exhaustion. He isn't even aware he's passed out until he's awoken hours later to the scent of candles burning and the sound of someone rustling around his apartment. Wait – apartment? Why doesn't that sound right...?

Sanji's eyes open and he jolts up with a gasp. There's warm dim light glowing inside, the wooden crisscrossing beams on the walls are blurry and out of focus but they remind him of where he is. The yurt. Up north. And who...?

There's a familiar presence at his side – he turns and focuses on the dark silhouette of a man. Black hair tousled and strewn with twigs and pine needles, like it hadn't been washed in days, weeks even. The man is glaring, and he knows that piercing look. No one else can make him feel so naked with just a look. He's always hated that about him.

"Zoro...?" he calls softly, voice not entirely functional yet, throat dry from sleep. Sanji thinks he smells blood, which raises alarm. _Is he hurt?_ But damn if he isn't relieved to see him alive. So Luffy and Koshiro weren't joking.

There's a hefty sigh. "Didn't expect to see you in here when I saw that jeep outside. The fuck you doing here, shit-cook?"

* * *

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

****

 

 

**Northland**

_dusk, pt. I_

 

 

Sanji’s prepared himself to answer this question for days now, and he still finds himself tongue-tied when posed with it. Zoro doesn’t offer him much time to answer anyway.

“Let me guess. Luffy had something to do with it?” Sanji’s silence speaks for him. “I told him not to interfere no matter what, that idiot.”

Sanji leans forward on the bed, angered, “You were supposed to keep in touch with him. What did you expect?”

“Him to stay out of it like he said he would. Well I guess sending you up here is his version of a loophole,” Zoro sighs and stands up, walking away from Sanji. “Surprised you made it here, to be honest.”

“What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?” Sanji asks, riled. He gets to his feet as well, Zoro’s verbal jabs knocking the grogginess right out of him. Well, he’s starting to remember why worrying over Zoro felt so foreign and wrong to him. This fucking asshole.

Zoro doesn’t turn around to acknowledge him properly, responding while carefully setting logs into the cast iron wood furnace. “This isn’t exactly your comfort zone, is it, city boy?”

Sanji’s brow twitches as he lets the comment settle in. “Proved you wrong, at least.”

Zoro laughs. The cook is getting ahead of himself. “You haven’t proved anything yet. And you won’t. You’re leaving in the morning.”

“That’s not happening,” Sanji refuses.

“You came up here to make sure I’m still alive, right? So there’s no reason for you to take up space and be a pain in my ass,” Zoro explains, holding the flame from a match under the piled firewood and waiting for it to adhere to the kindle. “Go tell Luffy and them I’m good. And that I don’t need any more check-ups.”

Sanji steps forward, fury boiling in his veins. “How can you be so selfish? Don’t you get that they’re worried about you?”

“There’s nothing to worry about—”

“ _Yes_ there is! You lose your girlfriend, you quit your job, you disappear for a fucking _month_ , we lose contact with you completely...how the fuck are they not going to worry?” Sanji exclaims, voice raising. “I had to put my life on _hold_ to come up here on behalf of everyone, and you have the balls to sit here and tell me that I wasted my time? Why? Because you’re too fucking arrogant to admit that you’re an irresponsible _fuck_ who—”

“Don’t you go blaming your shit on me. I didn’t force you to do any of that.”

“You _still_ don’t get it, do you? Your skull’s thicker than I thought.”

“Look, I get it. I understand why everyone’s freaked. Me and Luffy expected it when we discussed all of this. But Luffy knew how hard it would be for me to keep in touch with him, and he should have known that I would be fine if he didn’t hear from me for a while. I _trusted_ him to know that,” Zoro explains, staring into the flames, a flicker of hurt in his eyes. Then, he turns his head in Sanji’s direction. “It’s only been, what...how long did you say again?”

Sanji groans. “A _month_. You’re really losing your mind up here if you can’t keep track of time. And those expectations you have of Luffy are ridiculous.”

“Luffy knows me. You don’t.”

This stings, and Sanji’s not sure why. It’s actually a sensible comment. He internalizes it and sticks to the topic at hand. “Luffy told me the deal was that you would keep in touch with him. You didn’t, so he had to act.”

“But he didn’t act,” Zoro states bluntly. “He sent _you_ up here, which is confusing as fuck. I’m still trying to figure out why you’re here.”

Sanji has nothing to say to this, his nerves resurfacing, buzzing beneath his skin. Zoro’s getting closer and closer to a revelation that Sanji doesn’t want him to approach.

“Unless you have your own reasons for being here,” Zoro concludes, staring Sanji straight in the eyes and is rewarded with the cook shifting under that gaze before tearing his eyes away.

Finally, Sanji realizes he’s got no choice but to own up to it. “Can you really blame me?” He musters up the courage to look back at Zoro, whose expression doesn’t change other than a more prominent frown. The fire crackles as it burns bright and Sanji can finally focus on Zoro’s appearance. The bottom half of his face is coated in stubble, and the man has always been a shaver. He’s in need of a haircut as well. There’s blood painting Zoro’s face and hands and lord knows where else under that ragged coat. “You’re injured as we speak – all that blood on you. Looks like you haven’t bathed once since coming here either, and trust me you smell like _shit_...”

Pondering over Sanji’s exposing words, Zoro leaves the door to the woodstove open a crack and stands. He’s quiet for a moment, unzipping his jacket, before addressing Sanji’s concerns. “I’m not hurt, this blood’s from a deer,” he explains, taking off his jacket. “Was gonna take a bath before I caught your sorry ass in here, actually.”

Sanji shakes his head. “You’re such a dick.” But he’s relieved Zoro’s unscathed.

Zoro shrugs, “So are you.” He walks around to the other side of the furnace, where there’s a large compartment for water with a faucet attached near the bottom. He opens it up and dips his finger into the water which he’d filled earlier, checking its temperature as the fire burns on. “So how’d you find the yurt?” he asks, voice even, sounding almost bored.

“Luffy gave me directions to Frost Moon, and from there I asked Koshiro.”

“How did Luffy have—”

“Kuina.”

This silences Zoro entirely.

“Look,” Sanji begins, but doesn’t get a chance to keep going.

“Like I said, tomorrow you leave. I’ll go back on my time,” Zoro says coldly.

“And like _I_ said, not happening.”

Zoro eyes narrow and pierce into Sanji, but he stands his ground. This is something he’s not budging on. No words are spoken as they fight a silent battle. Finally, Zoro turns away and bends down to the furnace, poking at the wood inside and shifting it closer to the back, directly under the water compartment where it will heat faster.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Sanji forces the words from his mouth, hoping to touch the subject of Kuina’s death. His heart is beating fast but he refuses to let it deter him.

Zoro’s frown is deep and a scowl begins to form. “This is what I want.”

“And what about the rest of us?” Sanji poses.

Zoro walks over to the bath and turns the faucet on, a thick stream of water rushes into the tub. “How I do things is my business,” he says quietly, yet his voice is heavy. Weighty.

Sanji scowls as he observes what Zoro’s doing. This conversation is putting him in dire need of a cigarette. The guy’s so fucking stubborn. “There’s no way that water’s warm enough yet,” he points out.

“Don’t care,” Zoro says. Without warning, he quickly begins to undress, taking off the layers on his torso before focusing on his pants. He notices Sanji looking away from the corner of his eye. If it’ll force the stupid cook out of here and stop this godawful conversation in its tracks, he’ll gladly bathe in cold water. Cook’s always been modest like this – so desperately girl crazy and insecure about his masculinity he can’t bear the thought of looking at another man’s body. Zoro knows this well.

Sanji can’t believe it. Zoro’s cornered him with this one. “You have no shame, I swear.” He picks up his scarf and mitts before making quick strides for the door. “I’m going out for a smoke,” he grouses, catching sight of Zoro sinking into the bath, not a hint of discomfort on the man’s face.

His blue eyes linger on Zoro’s broad chest, a massive scar embossed diagonally on his skin, three long distinctive lines dragging down from his shoulder to his hip, and a fourth, less drastic line weakly trailing alongside them. That scar always has been difficult to look away from. It’s ugly and fierce, and utterly mesmerizing.

Sanji escapes the yurt with his dignity intact. He immediately lights up a cigarette, a clumsy task in the dark with cold air barraging him at all sides. Must’ve flicked the lighter 20 fucking times to get a proper flame.

He’s seen that scar before many times – everybody has – but Zoro has always changed the story up for his own amusement. He likes to tell Usopp and Luffy that he got it in some fight or another (the story for that one is particularly varied, some involve a bar fight, others an encounter with a wild animal), or tell Chopper that he did it to himself to look cool, or Franky that it was a Freddy Krueger costume gone wrong. Once Sanji heard Zoro tell Brook that he had played a cello too hard and the strings snapped, whipping his chest raw. What the explanations have in common is that they’re all utterly ridiculous, and Sanji is pretty sure Luffy knows the truth but is caught up in Zoro’s running joke. 

Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, Sanji is caught up in the conversation he’d just had with Zoro. He feels lucky to have found him after the long trip up, grateful that he didn’t come up empty-handed, or worse. But he’s at a loss at what to do now. He’s just going to have to stick around for the long run up here, in this frozen fucking void. A cold breeze blows by, nearly snuffing his cigarette and he protects it with a cupped hand and a grumble. He shivers wildly, fumbling to put on his mitts.

Judging by the way things are already going, he’s beginning to doubt himself. Why did Luffy place so much faith in him? This clearly isn’t a job for him of all people. Zoro won’t listen to him, he hates him. It’s as he said, Luffy knows Zoro, Sanji doesn’t. It’s going to take everything for Sanji to not get kicked out of the yurt, let alone get through Zoro’s thick head.

But then his mind drifts back to those protruding thoughts, the ones that pester him from time to time. The ones which encourage him that there is an inherent connection between them buried from open sight, that he understands Zoro a lot more than meets the eye. That he doesn’t give himself enough credit for what that is or what it means, or could mean. Maybe this is where Luffy’s faith in him comes from.

Maybe it’s time for him to place faith in himself and make use of whatever friendship it is that he and Zoro have built for themselves under the surface. That strange but potent intimacy that he can’t put his finger on. It’s time to explore it, or exploit it, whatever he has to do to snap the man out of this crazy funk.

A cloud breaks, and suddenly there’s enough moonlight for Sanji to take a look around his immediate surroundings. His eyes settle on Zoro’s car, buried in snow and ice. Just looking at the rusted old thing makes Sanji’s bones feel cold and he shivers. Looks like it’s been sitting there for a long ass time, dying a slow death of neglect. He frowns, reminded, but shakes himself of those thoughts.

Why couldn’t Zoro have just made one trip to an outpost to send an email? Certainly it’s a pain, but surely he needed to get supplies at some point anyway. Why make this so hard on everyone, on himself?

Zoro’s always been the kind of guy who’s challenge-obsessed. He likes to be hard on himself for personal growth or some shit. Sanji ponders on this, and suddenly a thought teases his mind, one that has him sucking in a massive drag and breathing the ensuing plume of smoke out with a hefty sigh. He chucks the butt down into the snow and steps on it with more force than necessary.

He better not be right.

Inside the yurt, Zoro is scrubbing water and soap over his arms and chest, ridding himself of the dirt and grime that’s built up over the past week. It doesn’t take him long to clean himself up. Sanji’ll probably be finished his smoke by the time he’s dressed.

                                                     

He’s upset with Luffy for giving up so easily and breaking his promise. And sending the cook up here offends him even more. It could have been anyone else. Seeing that jeep when he returned to the yurt, he expected anyone but Sanji. Zoro supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, the cook has always had a better heart than most, all wrapped in his bullshit exterior, but a good heart nonetheless. The second he saw the blond sleeping in his bed, after the initial shock wore off, Zoro put two and two together and realized Sanji’s compassion had brought him here.

Thing is, Zoro is far from needing that compassion. Kuina’s gone now, and it’s something he wants to deal with on his own. What he’s going through is private and his own, nobody should be able to intrude on that, especially not the cook. While Sanji’s heart is in the right place, _this_ simply isn’t his place, in more ways than one.

He figures it won’t take much to encourage the cook to go back to Vancouver. This harsh environment will do the job for him, if Zoro doesn’t kick him out first. Sanji is the last person he wants to see right now for several reasons, and he won’t be able to tolerate his presence much more than he already has. Sanji hasn’t even scratched the surface of Zoro’s temper, and he’s been surprisingly patient with the cook.

Zoro quickly shaves his face before stepping out of the bath, grabbing his towel and drying himself off as the tub drains. He slips into sweats and a hoodie, feeling rejuvenated from the bath. A reward for his long and tiresome hunt today. Now he just needs to get some sleep. As he ambles towards his bed, he hears wolves howling outside, distant and eerie, and it’s then that the cook barges in.

Damn. He should have locked that door while he had the chance. Sanji’s cheeks are flushed from the bite of cold and his features are twisted up, angry. All in all, a pretty standard look for him.

“Oh, still here?” Zoro asks, purposefully goading him.

Sanji tosses the comment aside, his thoughts linear and one-track as he strides over to Zoro. When he gets into the man’s space, he points to where he’d just come from and glares. “How much gas is in that car?”

Zoro catches his eyes unflinchingly and answers the question. “’Bout a quarter tank. If that.”

Sanji scowls, his blue eyes icy and fierce. “You’d better tell me you got extra gas somewhere in that car.”

Eyebrow raised, Zoro responds, “No.”

Sanji’s eyes widen for a moment, before he steps back and clenches his jaw. “I fucking knew it. You can’t make it back to town even if you wanted to.” There’s no response, which only serves to egg Sanji on more. “That’s beyond irresponsible, even for you.”

“And who says I didn’t do it on purpose,” Zoro poses, crossing his arms with a stern expression.

“And why would you do that?”

“Like I said, you don’t know jack shit about m—”

Sanji doesn’t let him finish, he’s so sick and tired of hearing that. “I know you survived a winter out there once, that you’ve got a major hard-on for this shit, and that you’d be crazy enough to run your car dry to test your limits. I’m not a fucking moron.”

Picking up on the bit about surviving a winter up here, Zoro asks. “Koshiro tell you that?” Sanji nods slowly. Zoro continues, “You’re right. I did it on purpose.”

“That’s all?” Sanji asks between his teeth.

“What more is there?”

“Have you _completely fucking_ lost your mind!?” Sanji yells, temper setting his blood ablaze. He can’t believe Zoro is taking this as lightly as he is! He thought the man was more responsible than this, but apparently he was wrong. Even with Kuina’s death affecting him, this is just _crazy_. He grabs a fistful of Zoro’s sweater and pulls him closer to get his point across. “What if you had _died,_ huh!? Because of what? Your stupid pride? You selfish prick!”

Almost as soon as he’s grabbed, Zoro snatches Sanji’s wrist and tosses his arm to the side. He’s been patient enough, and he’s now reached his limit. The cook has overstepped his boundaries, _massively_. “Get the fuck out.”

Sanji growls and catches his footing, straightening up to stand his ground. Apparently Zoro’s snapped. He grins. “I don’t think so.”

“Get. Out.” Zoro steps towards him ominously. Sanji doesn’t move. “ _Now._ ”

“No,” Sanji says lowly, preparing for a fight as Zoro looms closer.

Zoro takes him by his coat and shoves him back. Sanji nearly falls on his ass, steadying himself with hands to the floor, but as soon as he stands and regains his balance Zoro is there again, stone-faced and reaching out to grab him once more. Sanji manages to dodge and his foot is itching to lash out, but he restrains himself. That would be too far.

“Zoro, calm down. Take a step back.”

Zoro clutches Sanji by the coat and drags him to the door. Sanji shouts at him all the way but he doesn’t pay attention to his words whatsoever. He opens the door and that’s when the blond really struggles, kneeing him hard in his side. Zoro curls over in pain and one hand releases Sanji to hold himself, but he’s still got the cook in a strong fist-hold.

Cold wind pounds into the yurt, snow coming in with it, and Sanji’s hair blows as he latches onto Zoro’s hand at his chest and tugs. He never expected things to escalate like this. He feels like he’s let himself down after attacking Zoro, but it had been hard to control himself after being indignantly pushed around, especially as the man was clearly planning to toss him out into the cold, frozen night.

“Zoro...” Sanji tries to placate him again, or apologize, he’s not sure which, a cold feeling stirring in his gut. Lightning quick, Zoro hooks him in the face, his cheek explodes with pain and the next thing Sanji knows he’s collapsed outside. The door slams shut and Sanji is left with the howling wind.

He stands, holding his face, barely believing he’s just been punched. His body is filled with rage. He tries to open the door, but it’s locked, and his fury intensifies. He knocks furiously.

“Hey! Zoro! _Hey!!_ What the _fuck_ , asshole! Open the fuck up!!”

Sanji knows already Zoro has made the decision to leave him out here for a good while, but he’s so livid he has to pound on the door and yell for good measure regardless. He’s so pissed he considers giving in and driving back home right then and there. Not an hour into their reunion and that idiot fucking _punched_ him already, not to mention he’d given the man a solid knee to the side himself. There won’t be a more obvious hint that this entire idea was a horrendous mistake.

His own mistake was getting that worked up, he’d definitely taken things too far, but he couldn’t fight his nature. The revelation that Zoro had not only isolated but trapped himself here strung an all too familiar chord with him, and the fact that he’d done it _on purpose_ is just plain insulting.

He drifts away from the door, unease overtaking him as he looks around in the dark. It’s eerie out here at night, and the wolves he’d heard earlier don’t exactly make him feel at home. Sanji shivers and zips his coat up to his chin. Knowing he’s not going to be in the yurt for the night, or at least until the both of them cool off, he pats his coat pocket for his keys, finding only his cigarettes and a lighter. Shit. They’re inside.

He steps back to the door and knocks boisterously. “Zoro! If you’re not letting me back in, I need the keys to the jeep. I’ll fucking freeze to death out here! Hey! _Zoro—!!”_

The door unlocks, opens, and something drops to the snow in an instant. The door shuts and locks just as quick. Sanji looks down at where the keys had fallen and rifles through his pocket to get his lighter out to guide him. This whole situation is a fucking nightmare.

“Asshole,” he grumbles, picking up the keys after scavenging for them with a sour look on his face.

Within minutes he’s in the jeep and immediately feels much safer. He doesn’t have to rearrange much to empty the backseats and create a little haven for himself. Thankfully he didn’t move much else than food into the yurt, so he’s still got his sleeping bag and most of his supplies with him. He wishes he could turn on the car for some heat, but that would destroy the battery. He’ll just have to make do with the sleeping bag, his coat and plenty of layers.

Rubbing his sore cheek tenderly, Sanji curls into himself to preserve warmth. He feels utterly disgusting as he slicks his tongue over grimy teeth, hair oily and skin dry, lips cracked from too much exposure to bitter cold. His shower at home is a longing image in his mind and he can practically feel the warm pressure washing over his skin in his reverie.

Eventually he works up enough body heat to doze off comfortably, but it takes over an hour to slip into a deep sleep, his cheek burning and his mind unsettled over the night’s events and what’s to come in the morning.

* * *

 

When the sun’s up, the dim morning light shines in from the top of the yurt. Even though there’s not much indication, Zoro’s in tune with the sun when here, and so his eyes open blearily. The wood furnace’s heat has died down overnight and the yurt is a perfect temperature for him, cool but not freezing. He shifts comfortably in bed a moment before the cook comes to mind, which causes him to jerk his head up, drool slipping down his chin. He wipes his mouth clean of it and gets up.

Guilt pours into him all at once. His side is bruised and sore, but even still, that punch should have never landed on Sanji. He feels his anger was justified at the time, but not to that extent. He’d just been cruel.

He and the cook have scuffled many times, usually harmless arguments that got physical, but he’s never punched Sanji in the face before. Even he can admit it’d been uncalled for, hitting someone in the face crosses a pretty distinctive line. After getting a good night’s rest, this is especially clear to Zoro now. Staring down at his left hand, the knuckles are discoloured and sore, and he folds it into a fist to feel their ache more clearly.

After poking his head out the door, he sees the blue jeep is unmoved. He never did hear the engine rev last night after giving Sanji the keys, but he had also fallen asleep pretty quickly. Truth be told, he’d been exhausted before his encounter with Sanji last night had even begun, which contributed to him snapping. It was no excuse, but it had set him on edge enough to make it happen.

He’s surprised the cook never left. Zoro puts on his boots and steps outside, snow crunching under his feet as he approaches the vehicle and peers inside. There’s a large tuft of messy blond hair sticking out of a thick sleeping bag in the backseat, and there’s a steady rise and fall movement in the mass. Zoro is honestly shocked at the cook’s perseverance. 

Knowing how cold Sanji’s night has been, Zoro goes back inside and gets the wood furnace going before bundling up to make a small journey outside. He brings with him two empty 5 gallon water jugs and makes the short trek down to a creek. Since winter’s coming to an end, the ice is starting to thaw and melt and shift, which makes obtaining water much easier. When he’d first come up here a month ago, he had to drill for it.

He fills the jugs and heaves them back to the yurt, where he then pours the water into the compartment. It will take some time for it to heat up, so in the meantime Zoro goes to check on the freezer outside and see if it’s been broken into. He has fresh deer meat in there, after all. It looks untouched and unchanged, to his relief. He’ll bring some of that meat inside later to cook up.

Zoro only stores one kill at a time in there until he’s eaten everything and goes off to hunt again, it’s the heathiest way for him to do this. He never takes back more than he can chew, but he doesn’t like to waste a kill either (it’s disrespectful), so luckily there’s a wolf pack in the area that he knows forages his kills, as well as bears, and after them coyotes, foxes, wolverines, ravens or other small scavengers will eat whatever’s left. Nothing gets wasted up here, especially not during the winter. Zoro feels the primal instinct of these animals to survive better than anyone.

The wolves sometimes hang close by the yurt for more scraps, which he only gives them if the meat’s starting to turn. Anyone would tell him that’s its dangerous or that it negatively impacts their hunting habits, but he’s always had a way with wolves. He’s already familiarized himself with the pack of this area, and it’s a mutually beneficial relationship. Most people don’t know wolves the way he does.

Hand drifting over the sheathed hunting knife at his belt, nostalgia washes over him and he loses himself in his memories with Kuina from before they moved to the city. When they used to camp all along the tundra and hunt for weeks and merge with this world completely. There was no one else on this earth who understood this part of him like she did.

Now with her gone, he misses them more than he ever has.  

He succumbs to the billowing guilt that ensues, making his chest tight and raw. His preferred lifestyle had backfired in one regard – he should have taken her to a hospital before she’d fallen asleep, but their upbringing here made it an impossibility for them both. Hospitals simply weren’t a go-to for them as they hadn’t been raised with them anywhere close-by.

Even so, he prides himself on his impeccable instinct. Where had his instinct been that night?

Zoro could ask himself that very same question for the months, even years before that night. Ever since they moved to Vancouver together, that part of him had dulled, and he began to lose sight of what he wanted. He’s not exactly proud of himself for this.  

All he had ever known was his life up here, in solitude, before moving south. The city was a change for him that he outright objected. But loyalty kept him there, as well as the friends he’d met. His city life wasn’t all bad, but he could never shake the turbulence he’d felt during the 5 years he lived there and it still leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

His thoughts weightier than he’d like first thing in the morning, Zoro decides it’s time to do some chores around the yurt while he waits for the water inside to get hot enough. Clearing snow from the roof has been one he’s neglected, and it should take the right amount of time. He lifts the metal ladder leaning on the wall and sets it up, before brushing snow aside from the ground and grabbing a long hooked pole.

It’s when he’s about halfway through this task that he hears the jeep’s door open and close. He can’t see the vehicle from where he’s currently clearing the roof, but after a while he notices the cook trudging his way over to him, scratching his hair, cigarette smouldering between his lips. The closer he gets, the more Zoro sees how much a wreck he is. The man halts below him and stares up so Zoro can get a good look at him. He is pale from the cold, his hair’s a clumpy mess and the bruise on his cheek has grown noticeably overnight.

Zoro sighs and begins climbing down the ladder. When he reaches the bottom and is at eye level with Sanji, he nearly flinches at the man’s livid yet wearied expression.

Sanji teeth are chattering as he says it. “You’re an _asshole_.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zoro mutters. “I know.” He nods his head in the direction of the yurt’s entrance. “Come inside and warm up.”

Sanji tosses his spent cigarette, steps on it and follows.

As soon as they enter, Sanji sighs audibly, the wall of warmth a pleasant sensation after being cold all night. Zoro immediately goes to the tub and turns the faucet, filling the bath as a plume of steam rises from the action. It looks beyond heavenly. Is it for him?

“Get in while it’s hot,” Zoro states when the faucet starts to go dry. The tub is half-filled, but it’s enough to bathe in. It’s nigh impossible to fill the whole thing in a timely fashion. He looks to Sanji, who appears relieved to hear the bath is for him. But he’s quick to twist his face up into a scowl.

“Not happening with you in here,” Sanji declares, hands in his pockets.

Zoro stands from his position on the edge of the tub. “You think I’m gonna stick around to see your boney-ass?” He stalks towards the door, and the two of them share an intense glare before Sanji’s behind him. “I’ve got shit to do out there. Take your time and enjoy it before you go.”

The door shuts noisily and Sanji takes a moment to himself to let that sink in before stepping towards the steaming bath and beginning to undress. He takes note of a towel, soap and shampoo on the floor beside the tub, but there’s no conditioner. He’s got some in the jeep, but there’s no way he’s going to go and get it now, so he’ll make do without it for now.

Sanji can’t be picky at this point. He just needs a fucking bath.

He eases himself into the water, flinching – it’s almost too hot for his skin right now. He quickly becomes accustomed to it and sighs in pleasure as the heat massages his pores. Cupping water in his hands, he pours some over his hair and scalp before reaching over the tub to grab the soap and shampoo and gets to work. As he starts with his arms, his hand wanders to his face and he tentatively presses on the bruise along his cheekbone.

Despite the fact that Zoro did this to him, Sanji is genuinely surprised with the man’s kindness this morning, as if trying to atone for what he did. Did Zoro forget that Sanji left a nasty bruise on him as well? That he had been the first one to hit Zoro with serious intent? He’d been wondering all night how Zoro would react today, here and now. In fact when Sanji saw him minutes earlier on the ladder, he had no words in his arsenal.

He’s felt so on edge around Zoro because of Koshiro’s warning. This was a private place for Zoro, a haven that he and Kuina had spent a lot of time in. It was not somewhere Sanji expected to walk in on and receive a warm welcome. And yet, he feels as though Zoro isn’t giving him as hard a time as he could be. In other words, Sanji had expected much worse than this. Especially considering Zoro’s behaviour today.

But, Zoro still expects Sanji to leave sometime after his bath, apparently. Sanji knows that’s not going to happen, but how will he enforce that? His priority right now is to keep himself in this yurt, not to convince Zoro to leave. His gaze shifts over to a collection of empty bottles in one corner of the yurt. His face lights up as it reminds him of what he’s got stored in the back of the jeep.

Booze. Lots of it. Beer, wine, liquor. All sorts of shit that never sold at the Baratie which he knew Zeff wouldn’t kill him for stealing. That wine cellar had needed a good sort-through anyway.

Twenty minutes later, Sanji is blissfully clean with a solid plan and is just about to get out of the lukewarm water when Zoro comes through the door without warning. The towel is already in Sanji’s hand as he gasps and wraps it around his shoulders, remaining deep inside the tub.

“Fuck, you could have knocked!” he yells, face flushed, drawing his knees up to his chest as Zoro inches closer.

Zoro stares at Sanji’s hunched form. The man gets embarrassed so easily, too easily. For a ladies man, you’d think he’d be pretty comfortable with his body. Honestly, the short glimpse Zoro had got of the cook’s bare chest is probably the closest he’s ever gotten to seeing him shirtless. Sanji’s always been modest about his body for some reason or another. It’s both annoying and curious.

“Sorry, figured you’d be done by now. Should’ve known you’re the type to take forever.”

“Well, yeah, after a couple days anyone would!” is Sanji’s agitated response.

“Go get dressed and then you’ll be on your way. Got it?” Zoro warns.

“We’ll talk about that in a minute—”

“It’s not a discussion.”

“Can’t you just _leave_ already?” Sanji says, utterly exasperated.

Zoro laughs. “Now you know how I feel,” he says, turning around and shutting the door behind him.

Sanji is left in bitter silence until he groans loudly. He climbs out of the bath and puts his clothes on lightning quick in fear that the jerk will barge in on him again. Combing through his wet hair with his fingers, he flips it over to his right and musses it up, tucking some of the front fringe behind his ear.

Putting his coat on as he walks, Sanji goes outside to where Zoro has begun chopping wood. He lights a cigarette while approaching. The man lifts the axe over his shoulder and strikes down with expertise, the log splitting in two instantly as the pieces tumble to the side.

“Hey.”

“I told you no discussions,” Zoro asserts, perching the axe on his shoulder.

“Before I do, let me show you something,” Sanji offers, playing his game, walking backwards while beckoning Zoro over.

Zoro gives him a funny expression before nodding slowly, placing the axe against the metal bench and following suit. The cook leads him to the jeep, where he puts his hand on the handle of the hatch. He lifts it open and then rummages around with a couple bags and boxes, clearing the way for what’s underneath.

        

“I noticed all those empty bottles in there,” Sanji says with a grin as he steps aside so Zoro can see his ‘supplies’. Then he deduces with a mischievous tone, “You probably ran your stock dry the first couple weeks, didn’t you?”

Zoro’s eyebrow twitches as he focuses on Sanji’s impressive collection of alcohol. Beers, liquors (tons of rye and whisky, to his delight) and wines. Where the fuck did the cook even _get_ all of this?

Sanji smirks victoriously as Zoro fixates on the trick up his sleeve, drool practically oozing from his lips. “I made a promise to our friends. And I’m damn well going to keep it.”

“You’re a stubborn shit,” the words slither out quietly, about as brittle as Zoro’s resolve right now. His hands are twitching. “You think you can handle being up here? I’ll put you to work, bastard.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Sanji responds as if offended. “I’ll take you on any day. Challenge accepted.”

“Then you can stay as long as this lasts me. Us. Whatever,” Zoro sputters and then reaches for the closest box to him while grumbling under his breath, “Damn you. Let’s move it all inside.”

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Product placement. You can bet these two get drunk off their asses.  
> PS: (There's more booze in that cooler.)


	4. Chapter 4

****

 

 

**Northland**

_nightfall, pt. I_

 

 

After loading all of the alcohol inside the yurt with Zoro, they have breakfast from two of the meals Sanji has stored in his cooler. It’s not long after this that Sanji is aware of a pressing task in need of his attention: notifying Luffy and the others that Zoro is safe.

“There’s an outpost maybe three hours south. Can find a phone there, get gas and whatever,” Zoro explains. “Have fun.”

“You’re not coming?”

“Nope. Got work to do here.”

Sanji frowns, miffed. “You know they’ll probably want to hear from you.”

“Got enough on my plate with you here, uninvited,” Zoro says sharply. “I’ll get back to them on my time.”

Sighing, Sanji unlocks the jeep. There’s just no use with him. “I’ll tell them you said hi. Don’t get lost while I’m gone, shithead.”

Zoro simply scoffs and walks off towards the yurt. He says over his shoulder, “Should be my line, city boy.”

Eyebrow twitching, Sanji gruffly retorts, “Oh real funny, caveman.”

What an annoying bastard. He tosses his spent cigarette on the ground and crushes it with his foot before climbing into the vehicle and revving the engine.

He pulls carefully out of the pathway and eventually turns on the highway. On the road again already. He hates being this far away from everything, even a working phone. Ridiculous.

Roughly three hours later, it’s close to noon and Sanji has found what he’s looking for: a small, antiquated outpost that services gas, payphones and even coffee. Sanji’s excited for the latter, he hadn’t expected it and it’s been too long since he drank a cup. He especially needs one now after such a shitty night’s sleep. In his desperation, he’ll even accept it from a dingy old place like this.

After filling the jeep’s tank and one of his empty jerry cans, he goes inside to get a coffee and pay. The man inside is old and about as north Canadian as can be expected, burly and tall, wearing a worn old red sweater and a hunting cap with a scruffy grey beard. His cheeks are flushed and Sanji will wager anything that he’s already several beers into his day.

The exchange runs smoothly other than the man asking Sanji where he got the bruise on his face. Apparently Sanji has almost forgotten it’s there, he’s so used to not having to worry about human contact these days.

“Stupid drunken fight I had with a friend last night,” Sanji explains, shouldering the door open and gesturing his coffee at the man. “Thanks a bunch for this.”

“You got it. Have a good one.”

Sanji smiles, content as he takes his first sip. It’s piping hot and he jolts as the drink burns his mouth, but just the taste on his lips and the aroma alone is enough to make him feel rejuvenated. It’s sunny out today but the air is particularly bitter, the dry kind of cold that really runs through you. Pulling his scarf up above his nose, he heads over to one of two payphones at the side of the building.

Honestly he can hardly believe these things still exist. It’s like stepping out of a rip in time and space, being here.

He’s no germophobe but payphones have always grossed him out. Digging into his pockets for his sanitizing wipes, he pulls them out and places his coffee on top of the payphone. Using one of the wipes to clean the dial pads and the phone, he tosses the wipe in a garbage bin close by before getting his cell phone out. He’d charged his phone in the jeep while on the road in order to have access to his contact list.

Coins successfully registered in the slot, he dials Luffy’s number and waits several rings too long before the younger man picks up the call.

“Sanji!”

He can practically hear that sunny grin in his voice. “Hey Luffy. Managed to find a phone, finally. Sorry about that.”

“It’s cool!” Luffy brushes off. “So how’s everything? Mission accomplished?”

Sanji one-handedly digs through his coat pocket for a cigarette and sticks one between his lips as he responds, “Well, you could say that. I found him and he’s okay, but...”

“Hey guys! Sanji found Zoro! He’s okay!!” Luffy’s voice blares into Sanji’s ear.

He pulls back with an annoyed face as Luffy then proceeds to shout about something looking interesting, and by the bustling sounds in the background he can judge Luffy is currently in public. Lighting up his cigarette with one hand and taking a quick puff, it becomes readily apparent to Sanji that Luffy is too distracted for a conversation right now. He’s already given him the most important piece of information anyway.

“Who else is there with you?” Sanji asks, irate.

“Uhh, Nami, Chopper, Usopp – ohh, _damn man_ , this would look _awesome_ in our apartment Usopp!!”

“Just pass the damn phone off Luffy!” Sanji gruffly demands.

There’s muffled rustling and indecipherable shouts on the other end before Usopp’s voice answers, “How’s it going? You found Zoro okay?”

Other voices in the background sound eager as Sanji attempts to talk over them. “I did, miraculously. He’s okay. But I think...”

“Hold on a sec, let me put you on speakerphone.”

“Sure.” He takes another drag from his cigarette, exhaling blissfully.

“Sanji, it’s good to hear back from you,” Nami greets.

“How are you? How’s Zoro?” Chopper’s anxious voice follows.

Sanji grins, happy to hear the voices of his friends. “Hi guys. I’m good. Zoro’s okay. Kuina’s dad knew exactly where he was. Zoro’s been borrowing his yurt this whole time.”

“His yurt?” Chopper responds.

Sounding both worried and irritated, Nami asks next, “Why didn’t he contact us?”

Sanji debates telling them the truth (at least what he knows of it) but he feels that would be unfair on his part. He couldn’t do that to Zoro, especially because he doesn’t even know the full story himself. That’s for Zoro to handle anyway, whenever the man is ready.

“The yurt is really isolated. I had to drive 3 hours down to get to the payphone I’m at right now,” Sanji attempts to explain, running a hand through his bang. “And I think he lost track of time. He didn’t know it’d been a month when I told him.”

“Lost track of time...” Chopper ponders, and Sanji can tell he’s about to go on a rant. “Are you sure he’s okay? Have you checked him for injuries to his head? Or infections on his body? Is he keeping warm enough? You should check his extremities.”

Sanji is glad they can’t see him because he bites down hard on his cigarette filter as his cheeks flush. “I am not checking any of that man’s extremities, Chopper. He’s fine. No injuries.”

“Oh, good,” Chopper says, relief evident in his tone. Nami, Luffy and Usopp are laughing in the background. Sanji’s agitation intensifies as he hears them murmur.

“Is Zoro there?” Luffy asks suddenly. “Can I talk to him?”

The corner of Sanji’s lip downturns. “He’s not here. He’s...not ready to come back yet.”

“What!?” Usopp, Chopper and Nami both react simultaneously.

Sanji sighs. “Before you ask, I did try to convince him, and he’s being stubborn. He’s hurt, obviously, about what happened. So I’m going to stay up here with him until he’s ready.”

“That’s cool,” Luffy cuts in before anyone else. “I figured Zoro would need more time up there. Thanks for looking after him, yeah?”

“Yeah, well...” Sanji fumbles with his words, exasperation already taking over. “No other option, really.”

Luffy laughs loudly into his ear. “I knew you were right for the job, Sanji! Anyway I’ve gotta go check something out, hit me up later, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, sure thing. Later Luffy.”

After Luffy’s off, Nami voice remerges. “So how long until you come back?” she asks softly.

“I have no idea. It might be a while,” Sanji answers. “I’ll try to keep you guys updated as much as possible. For now I’ve gotta hit the road and get back to the yurt.”

Nami sighs. “Being that far up is so inconvenient. I wish we could text or something.”

Sanji smiles gently. “Me too, Nami.”

“Just be safe,” she urges. “Call us anytime, whenever you get the opportunity.”

“Even if it’s 4 in the morning, I’ll answer!” Usopp adds enthusiastically.

Sanji chuckles at the reference. Usopp has called Sanji many times at that hour in the past for a random assortment of reasons, usually advice on Nami, since Sanji is very close with her.

“Will do,” he acknowledges smoothly.

“If you have any questions about life up there, let me know. Though I’m sure Zoro can fill you in just as much as me,” Chopper extends with a peppy tone.

“Sure thing, Chopper. Thanks,” Sanji says, grateful to him, to them all, for their support. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

They tell him they’re the ones who should be thanking Sanji before saying their final goodbyes and leaving the other line dead. Sanji hangs up the phone. He zips his jacket up a little higher and fastens the buckle around his neck, realizing he’ll be standing out here longer than expected as his next person to contact is Zeff.

Sanji’s got the burden of telling the old geezer that he’ll be gone for an indefinite amount of time, not just a week or two, like the sous-chef had originally told Zeff before making the trip up. He snuffs out his cigarette on the pavement, throws it out, and wastes no time lighting up another.

He’s going to need the second rush as he begins dialing Zeff’s number.

           

* * *

 

When he arrives back at the yurt, Sanji finds a cracked open box of Canadian sitting outside the door, keeping cold in the snow. He barges inside and catches Zoro in the middle of slugging one back.

“What in the hell?” Sanji blurts out. “I never said you could pound these back as soon as I left!”

Zoro takes his mouth from the tallboy can and sighs, sizing him up. “I don’t need your permission after letting you stay here. Thought that was the deal anyway. All this,” Zoro circles his hand in the direction of Sanji’s collection of booze, “is a shared affair now. If anything I get first dibs, actually, since I accepted it like payment. And the only reason I’m giving you any is to make you less of a pain.”

“You fucker,” Sanji says lowly. “I would’ve stayed here regardless, even if I had to live in that fucking jeep. So don’t talk like this is yours. You get what I give you, shithead.”

“Oh?” Zoro challenges. “Well, if that’s what we agreed on, then you get what I give you of this yurt. I’ll give you...that corner. That’s being generous, cook.”

“A corner? What kind of bullshit logic is that!?”

“Hey, don’t insult the corner. It’s a perfectly good corner.”

“You fucking idiot, this isn’t even your yurt! You can’t just dole out portions of it like that when you don’t own it. Doesn’t work like that. I own that beer so I get to control how much of it you drink, and when.”

“Always have been such a control freak, haven’t you? Well then if the beer is yours and you’re exchanging them for my time, I get to deem their worth to me. It’s not any kind of deal otherwise. So let’s say a beer is worth...a minute. I drank five. You have five minutes before I kick your ass out.”

Sanji growls furiously as he steps closer, leaning into Zoro’s face. “Hey asshole, there’s no way a beer is worth only one minute. You couldn’t even _drink_ one in a minute.”

Zoro perks a sharp eyebrow. “I can destroy a beer in _under_ a minute. Pretty sure _you_ couldn’t. Wanna go?”

Sanji’s scowls and is off to grab a beer in seconds. This is a bad idea. He already knows it is – shot-gunning beer is not his thing – but when it comes to Zoro, he can never resist a challenge. He stalks back to Zoro, beer in hand, pops it open and sucks the damn thing back.

It takes him under a minute and he nearly chokes on it a couple times. His stomach is not thanking him for it, doing flip flops inside him, and his mind hazy from such heavy input in such a short amount of time. His cheeks and ears burn, too, but the deed is done.

He gasps, then sighs, crushing the can in his hand before throwing it at Zoro’s face.

“And you doubted me.”

Zoro bats the projectile away to the side and finishes his current beer in one long gulp. “Impressive,” he says while standing, then he heads out the door.

Sanji doesn’t have long to collect himself, sitting on the small couch to let his stomach settle and ease the alcohol rush coursing through him. When Zoro comes back, he’s carrying four cans.

Zoro places the cans down in front of them as he destroys one in probably 20 seconds, no breaks in between. He belches grotesquely before smirking.

“Fuck off,” Sanji grouses, wanting to smack the smug expression right off his face as he reaches down to furiously grab one and snap it open. Determination gives him the power to chug it quicker than last time, he numbs his tongue and lets it pour down his throat without thinking about it. But it isn’t enough to beat Zoro’s ungodly time. After he’s done, he knows he can’t possibly go again in the next little while.

Sanji does his best to keep a brave face as Zoro picks up another. He already knows he can’t throw back a beer like Zoro, _no one can_ , so he’s at an immediate loss on this one. The idea of chugging another one right now is enough to make him taste vomit on his tongue. He’ll have to change the game.

“Fine, you win,” he admits, mussing up his hair, already feeling super buzzed. He leans back on the couch, rubbing his hands on his thighs absentmindedly.

“Shouldn’t have doubted my abilities. Y’know what I’m capable of,” Zoro taunts as he plops down next to Sanji on the couch, beer in hand. He’ll savour this one properly and give the cook a break.

Sanji ignores him for the time being. Pride crushed and feeling the kickstart of a buzz that'll keep his momentum going, it’s many long, silent minutes later that Sanji gets up and walks over to the boxes of alcohol they’d brought in earlier. The game is his loss but he’d already expected that, to be honest. It doesn’t mean they can’t keep going. His problem is liquid intake, but alcohol is another story.

Or so he tells himself. And this is precisely why he knew he would regret it the second he picked up that first beer. This is when he becomes delusional about his ‘good’ alcohol tolerance, especially in comparison to Zoro. Sober, he knows he rightfully doesn’t stand a chance.

“Moving on to rye,” Sanji says smoothly, plucking out a fat bottle of Crown Royal and scrounging around for a couple rocks glasses he’d packed in here somewhere. He brings them over and sits back on the couch, snapping the bottle open and pouring himself a generous amount before sliding it down his throat.

Zoro eyes Sanji greedily as he watches the golden brown liquid glisten and slip down the cook’s mouth. Whiskey and scotch are his favourite liquors, and rye is of course no exception. The sips on his beer become larger gulps as he desperately wants to finish it and get to that rye.

Zoro is really good at not showing how drunk he is, an expert at it really, but he’s almost 8 beers into his day now, 3 of which he’d had in under 30 minutes, so he can safely say he feels the heavy lull of intoxication. Not enough to make itself obvious, but it’s certainly loosening him up some.

He knows Sanji’s tolerance is absolute shit, so he’s not quite sure what the cook is trying to prove here. If he’s trying to prove anything at all at this point. Probably just blasted already. His cheeks are getting redder by the second. Easy to detect on such pale skin.

Done with his beer, Zoro sets the empty can down and picks up the bottle of Crown Royal Sanji has left on the floor. He takes a swig right out of the bottle.

“What the hell, dumbass! Don’t do that!” Sanji protests, reaches over to grab the bottle from Zoro, which takes him several attempts to successfully accomplish. “You’re so nasty! Now I have to deal with your germs.”

“What are you talking about? A real man drinks right out of the bottle.”

“A real man has manners and is considerate of others. Idiot.”

“A real man doesn’t carry baby wipes around with him wherever he goes.”

“Baby wipes!? They’re sanitizing wipes! Screw you!”

Zoro simply laughs.

Sanji pours himself about two ounces of rye and puts the glass to his lips. “Man, you’re such a pain,” he says before gulping half of it. Sighing blissfully and setting the glass down to his thigh, he continues, “Can’t believe I drove all this way for _your_ pathetic ass.”

“Can’t believe you did either, cook,” Zoro agrees, reaching over for the rye. “Got a soft spot for me you don’t want to admit to? Oh wait, you already admitted that, didn’t you?”

Sanji glares and pulls the rye away from Zoro’s grasp, and Zoro eyes him dangerously as the blond bends down to pick up the other glass he’d brought over. He hands both the bottle and the glass over to Zoro. Conceding with a hefty sigh, Zoro pours the liquor.

“Look Zoro, I hate your guts but you’re still my friend. After what happened with Kuina, anyone would be worried. I can’t imagine having to deal with something like that,” Sanji admits. He’s drunk enough to say the words, now. “Everyone knows how much you loved her.”

Those last words sting more than anything. More than the rye burning down his throat. Zoro can’t talk about this. Not now, not ever. He sets the empty glass down.

“I have to go collect some traps,” Zoro declares suddenly. He gets up and begins putting his coat and other winter accessories on.

“I bring her up, and you’re out the door. Why don’t you want to talk about it? Isn’t it a normal thing?” Sanji engages, standing with a slight stumble. His mind is so foggy, the words just pour out without any control. “Like it or not, s’what I’m here for.”

Zoro takes a deep breath before turning around and getting into Sanji’s space. He pokes a finger into Sanji’s chest and leans in close. “Talking about her is not your right or your business until I _make it_ your business.” He watches as Sanji’s eyes widen slightly, feels a powerful surge stirring in his blood, tempting him closer. He is sure to shake it off. “Just be useful, bring the rye, and shut the fuck up. Got it?” He turns around and makes for the door, calling over his shoulder, “Let’s go.”

Intrigued that Zoro has just invited him to come with, Sanji’s mouth parts. He looks to the floor a moment before grabbing a backpack to put the rye inside, bundling up and following Zoro out the door.

What Zoro has said is completely fair. Even in Sanji’s drunken state, he can see that. He needs to work for that kind of trust. And he needs to be patient and let Zoro talk about it when he’s ready.

Unfortunately for Sanji, Zoro’s reasons for refusing to discuss his dead girlfriend are not that simple. Much as Zoro would like them to be.

In his haze, Sanji has stopped caring about drinking properly, and swigs from the bottle as he shadows Zoro into the forest with a happy ambience. His body is relaxed and his mind joyful. He almost falls flat on his face when he doesn’t step over a dip in the ground and barely catches Zoro looking back in his direction.

He’s putting a dent in the bottle when Zoro finally comes by and takes it from him. He argues, but doesn’t fully know what he’s saying, and Zoro’s walking more closely by him after that.

“You’re too drunk,” Zoro says as he watches the cook sway. He bends down to dismantle a wire snare set for rabbits and other small game.

Sanji laughs, bending down to Zoro’s level and wrapping an arm around him. “Just know how to have a good time. That’s something you need to work on, grasshead.”

“Grasshead?”

“When I saw you last night, you had like sticks and dead grass all in your hair. Was pretty nasty. So, grasshead.”

“I hate you,” Zoro says, shaking off Sanji’s arm and standing. He makes sure the cook gets up properly, which he does for the most part. “I’m not the one who doesn’t know how to have a good time. You’re the uptight one.”

“I may be a responsible human being, but I know how to have fun, unlike you,” Sanji responds. “What’re you trying to catch with these traps anyway?”

“Hares and rabbits, mostly,” Zoro answers. They approach another one not too far away. Not to Zoro’s shock but maybe to Sanji’s, an animal is ensnared in it. “But, sometimes,” Zoro explains, closely inspecting the animal. It’s a small arctic fox. “There are surprises.”

“You’re not gonna kill it, are you?” Sanji asks, sinking down with Zoro to its level. The fox whines and thrashes as Zoro reaches out to grab it without hesitation.

“Nope,” Zoro answers, clutching the poor animal’s snout to prevent it from biting before releasing it from the wire snare with expertise. They watch the fox scamper off into the bushes to their right. “I didn’t expect to catch that deer yesterday, so that would be wasteful. S’why I’m dismantling these traps. Fox don’t taste good, anyway.”

“You’ve had it before?”

“In desperation, sure.”

“Don’ even wanna know the shit you’ve eaten out here,” Sanji expresses, lazily following Zoro as they move on. That desperate feeling is something he can actually relate to and he is sure to avoid the topic.

As the sun falls and they progress and drink over the next several hours, the bottle gets close to empty. They are getting sloppier and sloppier. Zoro begins forgetting where some of his traps are, and Sanji becomes incoherent and incapable of walking without Zoro’s shoulders to lean on. At one point, Sanji finds one Zoro’s traps when he trips on it and gets his boot snared.

Right now, Zoro is attempting to release the wasted cook from its hold as Sanji is dozing off.

“You idiot,” Zoro insults, aggravated, though he’s really very amused by the situation. Sanji’s a lot more fun like this. Even though it means Zoro’s got to pick up after him.

“Zoro...” Sanji murmurs, rubbing his chest, about ready to pass out. “Mm, tired. Ugh.”

“One more to go then we’re done,” Zoro reassures. Honestly, he’s ready to pass out himself. But he told himself he’d get this done and his willpower is strong. Only one more.

He slips the wire off of Sanji’s ankle and takes the trap apart, letting the cook rest in the meantime. But when he’s ready to leave, the blond is on the verge of sleep.

“Hey, get up. Let’s go,” Zoro urges, trying to shake Sanji awake. They’re both drunk out of their minds, it’s best to get this over with as soon as possible and get back to the yurt. “Just a bit longer, cook. Then you can sleep.”

“Hmm...” Sanji hums weakly. “Wanna sleep here...”

Clenching his teeth, Zoro crouches over the blond and slithers a hand underneath Sanji’s back, lifting him up. He touches Sanji’s face gruffly, hand avoiding the bruise he’d caused. “Stop being a pain. Get up you lazy shit.”

Sanji groans loudly and attempts to stand with Zoro’s help. They’re on their way downhill to the last trap by the creek. Zoro doesn’t even bother walking over there with Sanji, he immediately sets the blond down at the bottom of the hill, tells him to stay put and walks over himself to release the trap.

The sky is darkening as the sun begins speckling on the horizon through the trees, but there’s still enough light to work with. Worst comes to worst, Zoro did remember to bring his flashlight. It doesn’t matter how many drinks he’s had, Zoro doesn’t forget anything when he makes a trip out here and takes everything into account before he steps out of the yurt.

He hears rustling behind him and glances back to see Sanji wobbling his way over his way to the creek.

“Told you to stay put,” Zoro reminds harshly, but the man doesn’t respond. Zoro witnesses as the blond presses a hand to his stomach, walking faster than his body can probably keep up with in this state. He’s going to be sick, Zoro realizes.

He stands, trepidation taking him over as Sanji goes to crouch over the creek, hands on his thighs and instead collapses into the shallow, freezing water, breaking through partly thawed ice and snow.

Immediately, Zoro takes action.

“What the _fuck,_ Sanji, you idiot!!” he roars as he sprints over. Concern has his heart picking up as Sanji doesn’t rise from the creek, but just as he arrives and goes to reach down into the frigid waters, the blond abruptly pops back up again with a loud gasp and sputter, sitting belly deep in the creek.

Zoro grabs his arm and drags him back to solid land as the thoroughly drenched cook coughs and takes deep, heavy breaths. That must be sobering, Zoro thinks. Too bad it’s also life-threatening.

Finally, Sanji turns to him and shouts into Zoro’s face, “D-did you just _push me in!?”_

At Sanji’s hilarious outburst and absurd recollection of what had just occurred, Zoro wants to laugh – no, scratch that, right now he wants give the cook a second bruise to complain about – but his strong survival instincts are kicking in and he is forced into his own state of sobriety. He grabs Sanji’s face in his hands to get the man’s blue eyes focused on him. Sanji is shivering violently in his hold but doesn’t struggle.

Zoro lowers his eyes to bore them into Sanji’s as he throws a reality check at him. “Pay attention to me right now, Sanji. We’re about an hour from the yurt, it’s gonna get cold real fast with the sun gone, and you just dunked yourself into freezing water. This is _serious_.”

Sanji only stares, teeth chattering and breaths harsh.

As Zoro waits for the wheels to begin turning in the cook’s stupidly drunk head, he starts to feel horrible. Letting Sanji drink this much out here was the most irresponsible, amateur mistake he could have made. He’d thought he could be on top of it, keep everything under control, but clearly he’d failed.

Finally, Sanji responds, so quiet and slurred Zoro struggles to make it out.

“M’sorry. Fucked up. Sorry.”

Zoro’s eyebrows close together. It’s odd to see Sanji so openly apologetic. He figures he’s just too piss drunk to be his normal self. Zoro runs a hand through Sanji’s hair, which is already starting to clump and freeze.

“No time to apologize. Those wet clothes need to go,” Zoro says resolutely, taking Sanji’s arm and sliding off a drenched mitt. Sanji is quiet and complacent as Zoro undresses his upper half, but when his T-shirt is about to go off, suddenly he resists.

“Stop,” Sanji utters quietly.

Zoro isn’t gentle with him, ignoring his displeasure and tugging the shirt off despite the blond’s struggles. There isn’t time for modesty anymore. There is nothing unusual about Sanji’s upper body anyway as far as Zoro can tell, but the sunlight’s limited and he’s rushing to rip his own coat off so he doesn’t pay it much mind. It takes him some finagling to get Sanji’s arms through the coat but when it’s fitted on him comfortably Zoro zips it up as far as it will go.

His pants are a more difficult case. While Zoro is confident in his ability to keep warm with a sweater, to give Sanji his pants would be risky. He gauges the temperature. It’s probably about 10 below, not much wind-chill (this will be their salvation), though it will get colder fast once the sun’s gone. He can jog back to the yurt to keep his body temperature up and save on time. He might even be able to make it back in 30 minutes if he really books it. If he can make that time, Sanji will definitely be in the clear.

With that time goal in mind, the most important thing is to protect Sanji’s extremities. His core is already protected by Zoro’s warm coat, so his legs should be okay in that time frame. All he needs to do is take off the cook’s boots and socks. He does so and Sanji is complacent, helping him slip them off. The wet socks are stubborn, clinging to Sanji’s feet as if Zoro’s trying to rip off a layer of skin. But he gets them eventually and transfers his own socks to Sanji’s feet. They’re thick and warm, built for harsh winters, so they’ll do the trick for now.

He then stuffs all of the damp clothing into Sanji’s backpack, realizing only the wet boots will be an issue to carry. The solution is simple. Zoro rushes back to the wire trap he’d dismantled, picking up the used wire and untwisting the small loop to straighten it out. Then he wraps the wire all along each boot’s ankle and heel and dangles them over his neck, wearing it like he would a scarf.

Running back to Sanji, he secures the bulging pack on the cook’s back and rips his knit hat off, making sure it covers Sanji’s ears as he puts it on. Then he throws the hood over his stupid, frozen head. He’s thankful he’d attached the hood to his coat earlier today.

Already he can feel the chill of night, and without his coat, hat or mitts, he can feel it more prominently. He puts the hood of his sweater up and crouches to level his gaze with Sanji.

“Gonna carry you back. Best you don’t move, trust me,” Zoro tersely explains.

When it comes to hypothermia, the major preventative measure involves keeping cold blood away from the core and the brain. People would think movement keeps the body warm, which is true – when you haven’t just been dunked in ice cold water. So in Sanji’s case it’s safer to keep his movement at a minimum, especially since he’s still wearing those wet pants. He doesn’t want that cold blood feeding back to his heart in large amounts.

He feels even worse when he thinks of all the rye Sanji’s had. Alcohol and heat loss go hand in hand. He needs to be quick.

Eventually, Sanji nods. “Okay.”

It’s really good that he’s still somewhat coherent, Zoro thinks. Makes this a lot easier. He turns around so his back is facing Sanji. “Can you put your arms over my shoulders?” he asks.

Stiffly, Sanji lifts his arms. They’re sluggish and lack their usual dexterity, but he gets them over Zoro’s shoulders and even wraps them around his neck.

Satisfied, Zoro reaches behind him to grab under Sanji’s thighs, jarred by how cold the wet material is on his bare hands. He hoists Sanji up before slowly rising from his crouch. He nearly topples, and it’s then that he’s reminded of how drunk he is himself. Sanji’s shivering is more noticeable now that he can feel it on his back, so he wastes no time and sprints off.

15 minutes later, Zoro is forced to take a quick break. His lungs are burning; the dry cold air makes it hard to breathe. Sanji hasn’t said much in about 10 solid minutes, the last Zoro had heard from him being intelligible murmurs anyway. He should check on him.

Zoro sets Sanji down gently, leaning him against a nearby tree trunk. The blond is either asleep or skirting the line in between. Panting heavily in exertion, Zoro checks his pulse and breathing, even his heartbeat. All are slower than he’d like, but the cook is still in good shape all things considered. He’s trembling an awful lot, but this is what Zoro wants to see. It’s a good sign. Everything appears to be as he’d expected.

His skin is still ice cold, however, lips tinged blue, cheeks and nose an agitated red. At least the bruise is looking less awful in all this cold. Talk about an effective natural icepack.

Zoro’s hands are shaky and raw from the bitter temperature as he sets Sanji down to the ground, supine. He leans over and with a thumb to Sanji’s chin Zoro opens his mouth, clasping his hands around the lower part of his face. It’s for good reason, he thinks, as he intimately hovers and exhales slowly onto his face, making sure the warm, moist breath lines up with Sanji inhales, collecting inside his nose and mouth all at once. It’s for good reason, he thinks, as his heartbeat picks up nonetheless. He unzips the coat at Sanji’s neck so he can vigorously breathe along that area as well. He does this for a couple minutes.

         

It’s a warming technique he’d learned long ago. Important for warming core parts of the brain and stimulating consciousness.

He needs to check and see if Sanji’s conscious, now. Leaning back, he lifts Sanji back onto the trunk and taps his face lightly.

“Hey, Sanji. Respond if you hear me.”

His thumb absentmindedly drifts over Sanji’s lip, pulling it down, before cupping his cheek and smacking him harder.

“Hey. Respond.”

Sanji groans and shifts his head away from Zoro’s hand. His eyes don’t open. “Hmm...” he moans. “What...”

 _Good enough for me_ , Zoro decides.

It’s time to move again. It’s dark enough that he should get his flashlight ready now, so he turns it on and clenches it in his fist. He hoists Sanji back up and sprints until his lungs burn and his limbs feel stiff – and he keeps going.

Sanji is passed out and Zoro tastes iron in his mouth by the time the yurt’s in sight. Coughing as he approaches, he lowers Sanji to his feet to shift his weight to his shoulder. Then he opens the door and doesn’t waste a second getting Sanji inside. He sets the cook down by the wood furnace and begins taking off his socks and now semi-frozen pants first thing.

Sanji’s legs are impossibly long and thin, always have been, but they look more boney than ever after being encased by frozen fabric. And they’re very red. But there are no signs of serious frostbite, he thinks, as he rubs over skin to check. His own transfer of body heat while carrying Sanji helped with that.

He takes off Sanji’s boxer-briefs, pausing for a moment to mull over how easy that had been for him, a tinge of guilt taking him over. Wrapping Sanji’s lower half with a warm fur blanket, he leaves him like that for now as he begins loading the furnace with wood and starts a fire.

When that’s well on the way, he goes over to the bed and pulls the futon out from its frame, dragging the futon, blankets and all, over so it’s set in front the furnace. He turns back to Sanji and lifts him on the bed. Unzipping the coat, he pulls the shivering blond up to him, perching his limp form at his chest while he slips the coat out of Sanji’s arms and tosses it aside.

The fire’s gotten bigger now, the crisp scent of burning wood filling the room, lighting the two of them up as they’re settled right in front of it. His eyes narrow as he sees Sanji’s back, then checks his front, a multitude of scars glistening off of pale skin from the fire’s light. They’re wispy and delicate, timeworn, though some look deeper and more painful than others.

 _So this is why,_ he thinks, unknowingly clutching Sanji closer to him.

Sanji’s past has always been a mystery. He never ever talks about it and the group has learned fast that he will always brush their questions off. Sometimes he straight up lies, not always in the most intricate of ways (Zoro always notices tangled lies), to get them to stop prodding. Zoro has never even thought to ask because it’s clear as day to him that whatever upbringing Sanji has faced in the past, it hadn’t been pretty.

He can relate, so his instinct for this kind of thing is strong. The scars honestly don’t shock him. Sanji has always screamed broken to Zoro. It’s a vague feeling, but he figured it out very quick. That Sanji hides a tremendous amount of pain and anguish behind his smile is something he’s kept quite solidly to himself.

He sets the man down, cocooning Sanji in the fur blanket and checking his pulse and breathing again before letting him rest. He’ll be fine. He stares a while at Sanji’s peaceful expression, brows creasing.

The scars had been something off limits. While he couldn’t have avoided seeing them, it doesn’t change the fact that Zoro wasn’t _meant_ to see them. He’s intruded on something heavy and private. Just as he’s felt Sanji has been intruding on him. This lingering feeling of guilt swirling in his gut makes him yearn for some way to atone.

Zoro slips into some dry, warm clothes before settling down next to Sanji and enveloping him against his chest. Sanji will hate him when he wakes up, but Zoro can’t stand to keep watching him shiver and he’s pretty damn cold himself, not to mention drunk.

He stops giving a shit as he closes his eyes and the world fades black.

         

* * *

 

As Sanji awakens, he feels almost high, his mind randomizing sensations and sounds, feeling not like himself. He’s surrounded by blissful warmth. Someone’s snoring loudly. Is it him? But as consciousness looms closer, his head begins to split and his limbs feel more and more trapped and heavy. It’s too hot in here, he suddenly realizes, and he opens his eyes, seeing nothing but grey and brown. Fur?

The last thing he remembers is searching for traps with Zoro. Lots of rye. Ugh. That explains the heaviness in his body and the splitting headache. But after that...nothing.

After realizing that he completely blacked out, Sanji lifts himself up, alarmed. He wriggles his arms out of the fur blanket he’s cocooned in, and discovers for the first time that he’s naked under here. What the fuck? The loud snoring persistent, he looks down to his left to the source.

Zoro.

What the _fuck_.

He raises a hand to his head, stroking fingers crazily through his hair, trying desperately to remember what had happened. This can’t be right. He may be naked, probably still drunk and sleeping next to Zoro, but he’s cocooned in this blanket, separated from the man. They didn’t do anything weird, did they?

The snoring stops, and Sanji turns to Zoro in horror as the man blinks at him blearily. Sanji is quick to pull the blanket over his shoulders and hold it tight to his chest.

“Mornin’,” Zoro says, yawning and scratching his stomach without a care in the world.

Sanji scowls, practically trembling in his blanket from fear. “What _happened_?”

Zoro hums thoughtfully and Sanji wants to kick him for dragging this out. He’s having a goddamn heart attack over here!

“You got piss drunk, fainted in a frozen creek like a pussy, and then I had to drag your wasted ass back here before the rest of your manhood froze off.”

At this, Sanji blanches and frantically grabs for his crotch under the blanket to make sure everything’s in one piece.

Zoro smirks. “I didn’t mean literally, idiot.”

“You – I – that’s a lie! I wouldn’t do that!!” Sanji stammers, a blush creeping its way through to his cheeks and his hand pulls back to clasp the blanket tightly.

“Oh boy, I wish I’d filmed it. Pretty hilarious. Okay what if I said you stripped naked and climbed into bed with me?” Zoro teases. “Is that more believable?”

Sanji kicks at Zoro repetitively with a blanketed foot, irritation twisting up his face. “I got black out drunk and nearly froze. Fine,” he accedes. There’s no way the latter happened, he tells himself. Though a small part of him worries.

It’s then that he notices his backpack and pants on the floor, drenched, thrown there callously with water pooling under them. He knows what to believe now. He shifts the blanket tighter to him when he feels one side start to slip off his shoulder. A dark feeling looms, and he puts two and two together that Zoro must have undressed him. Which means he’d seen them.

Seeing Sanji’s dark expression as he readjusts the blanket around his shoulders, Zoro is pretty sure he knows what he’s thinking. Best to get it over with.

“I saw them,” Zoro admits. “The scars.”

Sanji’s eyes are wild a moment as he glances back Zoro’s way in shock. Zoro sees fear as they burn, but then resignation snuffs that fire out.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I know.”

Sanji’s sigh is quiet and shuddery as he attempts to accept everything. “It was necessary, I guess. My fault for drinking that much.” A pause, then he adds, “Thank you, for, you know. Making sure I didn’t die.”

Zoro sits up and grabs Sanji by his shoulders. The blond looks up at him, shocked by his sudden action and his intensity.

“Stop. That was _my_ fault for taking you out there like that, not yours,” Zoro reassures. There’s static silence between them before Zoro releases his hold on Sanji and backs off. He closes his eyes a moment, reminding himself that Sanji isn’t unconscious or drunk anymore. Everything that transpires now is in reality.

Sanji slinks back into his space after Zoro lets him go. That was strange. Zoro has never shown him anything like this. Something’s off; different.

Zoro rubs at his face and brows, sighing loudly. “Shouldn’t have led out you there like an amateur. And I shouldn’t have seen what I saw. Nothing changes that, there’s no excuse for intruding on something that private for you without your will. So, in return, I’m going to tell you something not even Luffy knows, something that’s been killing me inside ever since she died.”

Sanji eyes widen. As much as he’s wanted Zoro to open up about Kuina, this isn’t how he’d wanted it to happen. Zoro’s logic is severe, but he’s simply not worth this. It doesn’t feel right or fair, not to him.

“Zoro, you don’t have to—”

Zoro cuts him off, face stern, eyes fierce. “I do. Just let me do this.”

He understands now that he can’t argue with Zoro. If Zoro feels this is his way to atone for what he saw, then Sanji will let him even if he doesn’t deem it necessary.

“I realized a while before she died,” Zoro begins, gaze focused and strong. Resolute. It’s killing him inside to say this, to admit his greatest shame but he will not show it and he won’t waver.

“I didn’t love her anymore.”


	5. Chapter 5

****

 

 

 

**Northland**

_midnight, pt. I_

 

 

Sanji is at a loss. Zoro fell out of love with Kuina? The weight of these words fills the small space of the yurt until he's left short of breath. He's unsure of what to say. Zoro looks about ready to explain himself regardless of what he can come up with.

"Began to feel like I was dating my best friend, not my lover. If that makes sense," Zoro attempts to explain with a deep sigh, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "It was complicated."

"How long did you feel like that?" Sanji asks quietly.

"A year, give or take," Zoro answers. "Felt like something was off years before, too. Things got...dull. Thought maybe we'd been together too long. Wasn't that."

Sanji frowns. "Then why did you stay with her?"

"Loyalty," Zoro says, hoping that one word alone would make Sanji understand. When he sees the blond is still frowning, he elaborates. "She still loved me. For a while, I thought I did too. I didn't know any better. I should've. Never been too great at stuff like that."

"So you're saying you fell out of love with her a long time ago, but didn't realize? How can you not realize something like that?"

"Look, like I just said, I'm no good at romance."

"You must have confronted her, at least. Told her the truth," Sanji presumes, hoping, praying that Zoro did. He doesn't know if he can sympathize otherwise. That level of dishonesty towards a woman isn't a kind thing. Being romantically inept is no excuse.

"Lots of times. I wanted to break up, be fair to her you know, but she was torn over it. Said she didn't want to. So I stayed. But I couldn't give her what she wanted, couldn't make her happy. Should've just ripped the band-aid off, given her a fresh start," Zoro expresses darkly.

Sanji can't relate to being in a serious relationship – he's never had one. But what he can comprehend is the hesitance of nipping a hazardous fling in the bud. It can be a hard decision. Zoro's case is different though. He had been with Kuina for, what, 6, 7 years? Longer than he's known him.

"It would be hard," Sanji states calmly. "I get it."

Zoro shakes his head and chuckles harshly. "Sure, it was hard. Doesn't mean I had to drag it out like that. Towards the end, we were just friends splitting an apartment. No passion – sex was rare, depressing. Drove her crazy. Pushed her to the point where she started sleeping with some other guy."

It's hard to hide the shock on his face as Sanji replies, "She was cheating?"

Zoro clicks his tongue. He really shouldn't have told Sanji that. Nothing he can do about it now. "Yeah. Found out a couple weeks before she fell. Some guy from one of her classes. Was okay with it, when I found out. Understandable, you know. She was more upset than me. Felt awful, said she still loved me but that it was too hard being with me. Think it made her realize things between us weren't going to work. We broke up that night."

Sanji's eyes stare down at his lap, deep in thought, trying to digest all of this. He'd had no idea things between Kuina and Zoro had been so stale, all this time. He'd thought they were soulmates (everyone did), an ideal relationship that he looked up to, yearned for even.

"I didn't know you guys broke up. Did anyone?"

Zoro purses his lips. "No one. We didn't plan on keeping it a secret. Between the two of us, I guess it didn't get out. Not like things changed much anyway. The break up was mutual, peaceful. She was grateful to me for trying, was happy with the time we had. We kept living together, stayed friends, for those two weeks. Things weren't awkward, was actually pretty good. Then, she fell, and that was it."

Sanji feels a heavy weight in his chest. _Jesus,_ he thinks. "You guys worked things out in the end, at least," he reassures quietly.

Shaking his head, Zoro argues, "Still should've grown a pair and ended things when I realized it was over for me. Should've figured shit out earlier, known what I'd wanted, let her find a good guy and all that. Stopped wasting her time, stopped wasting mine."

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself," Sanji speaks up softly but strongly. He lifts his head, maintaining eye contact with Zoro. "You could ask anyone. It's hard to end things with someone you've been dedicated to for so long. Especially when the other person is so dedicated to you."

Zoro lips form into a thin line and he shrugs. "Doesn't matter now. What's done is done. We made our peace in the end. Felt like shit a while after the funeral, came up here to say a proper goodbye. Up here, things are clear. I know who I am, who I fell for. I might not have loved her the way she wanted – deserved – but I did love her. No one can tell me I didn't. It's enough."

Zoro opening up like this to Sanji is overwhelming. He never imagined he could be worth this much in the eyes of him. Maybe he's still drunk, but Sanji wants to reach out to him and touch, suddenly. The urge dissipates as quickly as it had emerged as he shakes the instinctive feeling. He hasn't felt an urge like that for a long time, and feeling it now unsettles him. This isn't anywhere close to the time for that.

"Good," Sanji says, voice raspy as he settles back. His throat is killing him and he rubs it absentmindedly. "That's what matters."

"I'm good. It sucks but...I'm good. Moving on and all that," Zoro expresses as he looks at the floor and rubs the back of his neck, massaging tense muscles.

Sanji watches the action dazedly, recognizing the nervous habit. He smirks. Zoro has such a hard time with shit like this. He has to appreciate the effort.

"Do me a favour, cook."

Sanji's eyes widen as his interest is piqued. Zoro never asks for favours, not to him anyway. "Sure."

Zoro's eyes are dead set on Sanji's, a severe expression on his face. "Don't mention her cheating to anyone. It may not matter to me, but out of respect for her."

"Of course," Sanji affirms. A cough tickles deep in his throat and he has to swallow to quell it. He uses his figures to apply pressure on the side of his head, skull aching. God, he's really starting to feel like shit.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Zoro grins a bit, unsure if he should really be saying this. "Not like I didn't cheat on her too, in a way."

Sanji's jaw nearly drops and his shock releases the cough waiting at the back of his throat. He hacks a couple times into his elbow before asking hoarsely, "This is becoming a _soap opera_ , you know that, Zoro? Are you _serious_?"

"Can it, cook. I didn't actually cheat," Zoro stops him dead in his tracks. Then, his eyes soften. "Have had my eyes on someone else a while, is all."

For once, Sanji isn't all that surprised. He thinks he knows where Zoro is going with this. In the past, Zoro has made it known to the group that he's not straight. He isn't picky about things like gender and focuses on personality and compatibility. Sanji can't relate to being that all-encompassing. As stunted as his sexuality is, he's pretty one-track.

Knowing this about Zoro has always made Sanji wonder if he was into Luffy, even while dating Kuina. Hearing him admit to having eyes for another makes it feel pretty much confirmed. The two of them are very close and while they don't necessarily emit high sexual tension, there is chemistry. Mostly, their bond seems to radiate from Zoro, with how loyal he is to him. And Luffy is the only person Zoro seems to hold in such high regard. He lets Luffy drag him on all kinds of misadventures around the city, which is weird for an introverted shut-in like him. He doesn't fuss when Luffy's obnoxious or pranks him. He even lets Luffy touch him in ways unlike anyone else.

If Luffy's there, Zoro's there. It's always been like this. No one else has this kind of power over him. Not even Kuina. Luffy's the only person that could tear Zoro away from her. It makes perfect sense.

Several seconds of silence have settled between them and during it a heavy, ill feeling has settled in Sanji's muscles. It leaves him shaky. A hangover is advancing full force, and even hints of a coming cold. He feels a strong urge to lie down, head spinning, nose prickling and threatening a sneeze, but ready continue the conversation regardless.

"Is it—ah- _choo!!_ "

The sneeze is so sudden and forceful that Sanji is hacking violently into his shoulder by the end of it. Zoro leans back with his hands straight up, looking both shocked and amused.

When he's settled, Sanji clears his throat and sniffs, voice nasally as he curses, "Agh, shit."

"Nasty," Zoro says, forcing Sanji to lie back down. There isn't any resistance. "Yeah, knew you'd get sick. I'll get some water boiling for tea. Start making some grub."

"Fuck off. I'll be the one to cook here," Sanji argues, head lifting from the pillow. "I can make a good venison soup with that meat, or stew." The blond begins to lift himself back up as he mutters, "Got ingredients in the cooler..."

Zoro extends an arm and pushes him back down, ordering, "Can lie there and tell me what I need to do, then. No way I'm eating anything you've touched right now."

" _Ugh_ ," Sanji groans, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing a hand to his forehead, which is starting to burn. He slides it back through his hair as he complains, "You're going to fuck it up somehow, aren't you? You'd better not let those ingredients go to waste, grasshead. I will _kill_ you."

Zoro's eyes droop as he hears the new nickname. So he'd remembered that, huh. Better not make it a habit.

"So how pissy will you be if I end up blowing your shit cooking out of the water?" Zoro taunts.

"You're really asking for it now," Sanji growls with a slight cough. "What in the world are you on? That would _never_ happen. Go get the meat. I'll tell you how to cut it, you knife-happy bastard."

* * *

 

A week passes by and the snow is beginning to melt as April arrives. Zoro expects a few final snowfalls, light ones, and then winter will be through. The landscape has transformed from the fair plains, hills and pines thick with sleet and snow to dark browns and yellows with crevices stubbornly clinging white.

The two of them live leniently in the yurt during this time, Sanji too sick to do much else than stay in bed and recover anyway. Zoro keeps himself busy around the yurt doing light maintenance tasks that pop up at the beginning of spring. He hangs around inside as well to keep an eye over Sanji and do the hands-on part of cooking. The meals he makes with Sanji's instructions are pretty damn good. Still doesn't have the cook's touch, though, he has to admit.

Every day Zoro offers Sanji whiskey to fight the cold, claiming, "It cures everything." Sanji calls him a delusional alcoholic and lights up a cigarette every time the bottle is held out to him. Zoro doesn't really care about Sanji lighting up in the yurt. They both have their vices as far as he's concerned.

The conversation they'd shared a week prior isn't brought up again. The two of them mostly just bicker as usual and attempt to co-exist as sanely as possible. Zoro has his rare moments of tenderness when Sanji suffers through coughing fits, wordlessly making him tea to soothe his throat, that kind of thing. Sanji worries when Zoro strays far from the yurt after dark, wandering out with a flashlight to check for him through the trees, fur blanket bundled around him dragging in the snow and dirt.

Sanji did mull over it quite a bit, however. The conversation. He could do nothing but stew on it with all this down time. It was shocking to find out Zoro and Kuina had been having such issues with their relationship, all this time. It's crazy that they had managed to keep it a secret and that Zoro hasn't even told Luffy.

He's been wondering when Zoro will make a move on Luffy when they go back, and whether or not Luffy will reciprocate. Sanji knows it's only a matter of time with someone as forthright as Zoro. Maybe that's part of why he's spent all this time away, to give Kuina an honourable goodbye before fully moving on. He wonders if it's disrespectful of the man to jump to another relationship so soon, though if the passion was gone between him and Kuina for years, he supposes it's justified...ish. Well, what Zoro does with his love life isn't his business to begin with.

Still, Sanji can't help but want to keep a close eye on it. It's discomforting how much he can't elude that desire.

As of today, Sanji is pretty well healthy again. Yesterday he'd even made a trip down to make another phone call to the group and grab some fresh ingredients. Pricey as fuck up here. Thankfully he's a chef, and he'd anticipated this, so he'd come as prepared as possible. The two big coolers he'd brought aren't full of easily perishable items, that's for damn sure. Rice, potatoes, onions, some canned soups and vegetables for emergencies even though he doesn't prefer to use them. He's got all the utensils he needs, too, even for drying meats. He'd dried some of the venison already with Zoro.

But nothing can replace fresh vegetables, so he's willing to pay the price. It's not like he can get them often anyway. He could see what's growing wild in the area if only it were the season for it.

It's hard to tell, but Zoro seems to be enjoying the vast difference in the quality of his meals. He's more laid-back, less grumpy after a hearty meal. Happier in general, maybe. Sanji takes pride in it.

Today, they are officially out of venison so Zoro has decided to take Sanji out on his first hunt. They get up early in the morning, Sanji preparing a simple meal of eggs, potatoes and vegetables and wrapping up some of the dried venison to tide them over for the day. Zoro prepares a large hunting pack with some quality thick garbage bags, a wheel of very thin rope and red electrical tape. It pretty much screams 'serial killer.'

Zoro then grabs his black leather quiver with sleek metal arrows inside, merely 5 or 6 of them. He stuffs it into a side compartment of his hunting pack where they are secured and accessible, but won't rattle. Sanji raises a brow.

"You don't use a gun?" he inquires.

Zoro hums in disapproval as he picks up his black hunting bow by the handle and looks it over, tweaking it like it's been neglected a while. "Guns take away from the hunt. Don't even like to use a bow, usually, but not sure tracking and exhausting an animal for days sounds like your idea of a good time."

"Who says I can't—"

"Trust me, cook," Zoro cuts him off solidly. "Not something you can pick up overnight." Before Sanji can retort, Zoro beckons him with a look. "Ready? Let's go. No drinking this time, yeah?" He takes a swig from his flask full of whiskey and sighs happily with quick head tilt. "For you."

"Dick," Sanji grumbles and follows, shutting the door to the yurt behind him.

Zoro stuffs the flask inside the inner pocket of his coat, readjusting the straps on his pack before looking back at Sanji as he walks. The blond gives him a curious expression before Zoro turns back around, keeping his gaze straight ahead for the next little while.

Zoro leads Sanji down to the creek, intending to follow it along like a path. "Watch your step," he taunts behind him.

"Shut the fuck up."

Several hours go by and there are not many signs of wildlife as Zoro takes Sanji deeper into the forested area. The creek has died out, buried under frosted roots and mounds of dead grass. Sanji has only seen ravens above and small critters scampering off into bushes. Not what Zoro means to hunt, he presumes.

He's told him to not to smoke or speak a word, which has left Sanji deadly bored. They aren't moving with purpose like Sanji is used to in the city – there's no clear destination. Without the creek to guide them, it feels all the more random. Just a game of tree-dodging, really. Fuck. Why does he trust in this idiot to lead him around? He's about to ask if Zoro's managed to get them lost when the creek reappears to his right, stronger than before. Flowing, even.

So, Zoro had taken them on a detour to find the rest of the creek. Interesting.

Out here, Zoro seems to be roaming around with instinct, blurring with his surroundings as he checks for signs of prey. Right now, he's staring at the ground more than before, deep concentration etched on his features. Sanji is fascinated by it, but not how he probably should be. It's not like Zoro has demonstrated anything impressive yet.

Finally, he utilizes the thought to test his voice for the first time in hours. "Why are streets at home a fucking maze for you but up here, no problem." His words drift into a light chuckle, genuinely amused.

"Stop talking," Zoro answers back gruffly as he stops in his tracks, Sanji being forced to follow suit.

"Fucker, if this doesn't pick up soon I'm about to walk my ass straight back—" His voice is cut clean off by Zoro's large hand instantly clasped over his mouth, the man giving him a sharp glare. Sanji rips Zoro's hand away and steps back, snapping a twig and glowering defiantly with a rumbly huff.

Something to their left gives a low screech. There's loud fluttering and suddenly Sanji sees a medley of large white wings as what appears to be two, no three large birds fly off, honking as they go.

"Snow geese," Zoro deflates with a mean sigh. "There's goose shit all over where we were just walking, are you blind?"

"What? Seriously?" Sanji asks, checking the bottom of his boots for smeared shit. He spots some in the back corner of his heel and growls, rubbing his soles on a nearby rock, cigarette already lit.

"Know how rare a find those are this time of year? Tasty fuckers too. And you just blew it. Idiot."

"Well fuck you too, moron," Sanji jabs, stalking past Zoro with a hand to the man's head and shoving him aside.

Zoro's got a nice buzz going from the whiskey, so if Sanji's asking for it, he decides to have a bit of fun. His next hunting spot is farther away so there's no need to worry about disturbing what's not here anymore. He rushes right back up to Sanji, planning to put the gangly man into a headlock, but the blond turns around last minute. Zoro ends up grabbing one of his forearms and a fistful of his hood, pulling him in close.

"I'll fucking skewer you with one of my arrows," he breathes menacingly, nostrils flaring, but jest peeking through the hint of a smile on his lips.

Sanji's arm is locked and motion is limited, but he manages bend his hand towards Zoro's face and threaten him with the lit bud of his cigarette. He smirks in triumph. "I'll burn a hole through you, asshole."

"Oh, really?" Zoro taunts, squeezing Sanji's wrist mercilessly until the pressure on his tendons forces the cook's fist to crumble apart.

A laugh cracks Sanji's face wide open as the cigarette drops into the moist dirt. "Ow, ow, okay!" he relents, attempting to step back, unable to contain his laughs. Zoro's grip is relentless and he starts kicking at the man's shins to escape.

Zoro lets go, rubbing his now aching legs with a smile, Sanji unable to catch it on his face as the cook focuses on putting a foot to the cigarette, just in case.

"Fuck, wasted my cigarette," he complains.

"Told you not to smoke anyway. Gives us away, cook," Zoro chastises before walking on ahead.

Sanji sighs hoarsely, gazing longingly at the wasted cigarette he's only managed to take two long puffs from. Still, it'd given him his fix. He hopes they can find something soon, he's desperately wanting to get back to the yurt where he can smoke freely. Irony is defined by being in an isolated forest way up north where smoking is prohibited by dumbasses like Zoro.

His heart thumping vigorously in his chest, Sanji walks after Zoro and comfortably keeps his eyes on the man's back. Wrist throbbing, he can still feel Zoro's hand pressed there and Sanji touches the spot tenderly, longing surging up with a mad force of memory and emotion.

This is getting dangerous being here, alone with Zoro. It's only been one week and he's already back to basics, all those years of burying undoing itself, ardor scrambling for the surface with a fortitude he'd thought long forgotten.

He smiles solemnly to himself.

No one but Ace knows anything of Sanji's inner conflict about being gay. But he is, he can't refute it. Never has been able to deep inside. He tries so hard to date beautiful women but he always fails and ends up appearing a womanizer to the people around him. It's not like he doesn't enjoy kissing girls but when it comes to sex he just...can't.

And he has longed for more with Zoro before, many many times. As it is, that so-called 'platonic' intimacy he thinks of often is wishful thinking, he knows. Merely a way for him to draw the curtain over his true desires. Zoro's been off-limits to him because of Kuina all this time. And even then, he'd thought, in the impossible event that the two did break up, Zoro would likely go after Luffy.

Zoro is a fantasy deep in the back of his mind and has been for quite some time, locked away, smothered. He barely thinks about it anymore after so long into their friendship. It'd begun soon after meeting, that specific breed of intrigue, but of course he'd been forced to nip it right in the bud.

He's never been all that torn up about it. It's too out of reach to agonize over. And he's mature enough to accept that Zoro's just not all that into him.

But now it's all coming back. He will extinguish it with practiced discipline, of course. He's not worried about that. But it's not as though he's hurting anyone with these long stares – not anyone that matters. When this is all over, things will go back to normal and he will be able to bring himself back to where he was.

He'll be fine. This is about Zoro's wellbeing anyway.

Not long after their brief scuffle, the forest dwindles and they're standing in the open tundra of the sub-arctic. Sanji knows they have a good view of this kind of landscape from the yurt, but to actually walk out here in this vastness, to live and breathe it and co-exist with it is stunning and exhilarating.

They walk and wander for hours. So much so Sanji really does begin to worry how well Zoro knows this land, because he's pretty damn sure he'd be screwed trying to find his way back. The two of them aren't completely in silence, Sanji tries to make conversation several times to cure his inevitable boredom, and Zoro indulges him with terse responses. Zoro is almost out of whiskey, too – Sanji can tell by how much he tilts his head back to get it down. It leaves the man slightly on edge.

     

Finally, Zoro bends down to touch shriveled, moist grass, running a hand over it thoroughly, like he's inspecting each individual blade.

"What?" Sanji whispers, curiosity getting the better of him.

Zoro doesn't respond, standing slowly with a deeply focused look and walking to another area to repeat the action. He does this repetitively, appearing to be onto something. Sanji can eventually surmise he's tracking signs of grazing and knows to keep silent.

Zoro points to some black pellets on the grass. Sanji nods. Scat. Looks fresh, far as he can tell. He grimaces and looks away when Zoro picks it up to test just that. Then, Zoro waves him over gently as they ascend up a hill. Sanji follows, feet light, lips pressed in a firm line.

Zoro gets into a low crawl as they approach the apex of the hill. Sanji gets down beside him until they're at the top. Then he looks down and sees it.

The other side of this hill is a small bluff, and at the bottom there's a pit of what looks like dirt and rocks. There are two animals down there, they appear to be white rams or sheep. An adult sized one and an adolescent. Sanji can guess a mother and her youngling. The adult ewe has horns curving back towards her head, not completely spiraling like a male's. The youngling's horns mimic its mother but are smaller. They're both licking at the earth below.

Sanji's eyes widen. Minerals. He pans over to Zoro whose face is calm as he puts a finger to his mouth. Sanji wants to laugh. As if he needs the extra emphasis.

Zoro slowly takes the pack off, careful not to make a sound as he gets to his knees. He pulls an arrow from the quiver and nocks it, then pulls it back and aims straight down at the two sheep. It's then that Sanji realizes he's about to watch an animal die. He doesn't know why it hasn't hit him until now, but it's unsettling as he takes a breath and watches the intensity of Zoro's black eyes, that deadly calm grip on the bow not granting a waver or tremor.

He is still like stone.

Zoro releases the arrow and Sanji's eyes don't follow its path, mesmerized by the man's tranquility just a moment before. By the time he looks down the bluff, the youngling has crumbled flat to the ground, dropped dead with an arrow in its head and the mother sheep is nudging it, whining.

Sanji's mouth parts at the scene. It's overwhelming him. He knows exactly why Zoro has done it this way, but it's gruesome all the same.

Zoro puts the bow down gently and stands tall over the bluff, clapping strongly. The piercing sound echoes loudly over the bluff, over the hills of the tundra and Sanji looks down to see the mother ewe scampering off, spooked.

"Down there's a mineral lick," Zoro finally speaks in his normal resonant voice as they watch the wild sheep elegantly leap away. "Good spot to hunt Dall Sheep and with a nice vantage point to boot."

Sanji swallows, eyes locked onto the dead animal below them. Practical words but morbid, very morbid. He doesn't have a response in mind.

Beside him, Zoro wordlessly throws his pack back on, picks up the bow and begins to descend. Sanji takes a moment before following him. They're not very high up and the small bluff has a slope, so it's not a challenging endeavor. By the time Sanji makes it down, Zoro has already retrieved his arrow, cleaned it, and is now crouched by his kill. When Sanji gets closer and angles around him, he is shocked to discover Zoro is stroking the adolescent sheep's neck and body softly, a tender expression on his face.

He's offering it thanks.

Too quickly Sanji goes from a sense of disquiet to being so utterly touched he's concerned he might have to sit down.

Zoro continues for some moments before peering back up at Sanji. He then asks, "Shocked?"

Sanji tilts his head, crossing his arms. "That you shot the little one?"

Zoro nods affirmatively, pulling his knife from its leather sheath.

The blond's face is overcast with a darkened expression. "How would it survive if you'd shot its mother?"

Smiling lightly, Zoro hovers the blade above his kill. "There's hope for you yet," he drawls pensively, before plunging the knife into the dead animal's shoulder.

Sanji looks on this time, watching the gritty scene as Zoro works with efficiency, quartering and packing the animal into separate garbage bags, sealing them off with the red electrical tape to be hung and drained later at the yurt. Sanji can see the years of practice and skill in his actions, in his hands. He helps Zoro put the packages into his hunter's pack, taken aback by how warm the bags feel from the fresh meat inside.

Ravens are already flocking the scene, waiting nearby and some daring to land right on top of their kill to peck away at the flesh. Zoro bats them away as they come, but by the time they're finished packing their game, there are too many of them scavenging the carcass to control.

Zoro's left meat on the bone and the guts for their friends. Two coyote mates, still sporting their gorgeous smokey-fawn winter coats, keeping a safe distance even as Zoro and Sanji retreat. They are much shier than Sanji expected them to be, as well as a lot smaller. Roughly the height and shape of a medium-sized dog. Sanji consistently glances over his shoulder as the mates tentatively inch closer to the carcass. When he and Zoro are a far enough distance away and thus not a threat anymore, the two coyotes join their raven friends indulging in a free meal.

It's good to know that life won't be wasted.

They spend hours making their way back to the yurt, Zoro's forehead glistening with sweat from the burdensome task of carrying the pack. Sanji knows that's got to be 70 to 80 pounds of meat, if not more. He offers to help lighten the load, but Zoro refuses every time. Says it's already routine for him, and so Sanji settles for carrying the compound bow. Zoro says it's okay to talk and smoke now, but Sanji only really does the latter.

The stars are out by the time they are within range of the yurt, and Sanji leads the way with a flashlight. He stares up at them in awe, not yet accustomed to how much more beautiful they are up here. Tonight the sky is crystal clear, so they're especially dazzling – he doesn't think he's ever seen the Milky Way as prominently as this. Maybe he really had been cooped up in the city too long.

His legs are killing him from a full day of walking, body fatigued in general, but he knows Zoro should be getting hit much harder, and so Sanji pushes himself to stay in front to avoid embarrassment. He's simply not used to this like the grasshead caveman. He now knows what Zoro had meant about this not being an overnight learn.

"I don't know much about hunting," Sanji states, making conversation as Zoro breathes arduously behind him. "But aren't you supposed to report what you kill?"

"Yup."

"You don't do that, do you."

"Nope."

Sanji laughs. Wolves howl beautifully in the far distance. He listens, comfortable with the sound.

The next time Sanji looks up at the sky, there is a large blurry ring of bright green forming. It shifts and focuses into a distinct line, before splitting off into many dancing pathways that drag upwards into the far sky.

His mouth parts, mumbling abstractedly, "Holy shit..."

"Never seen that before?"

Sanji is surprised at Zoro's voice coming from ahead. He hadn't even realized he'd slowed this much. "Never," he answers, promptly catching back up.

Zoro watches the cook trudge up ahead, turning off the flashlight and keeping his eyes on the sky. "You'll walk into a tree like that, stupid cook," Zoro teases.

"Shut it," is Sanji's retort.

Zoro awards himself a glance at the show, too. He'll never get sick of being a spectator of these lights. But the real show is straight ahead of him. Gaze still skyward, Sanji turns his head to the side so Zoro can see him, that parted mouth spreading into a wide, bright smile. He's not sure what the lights are doing to make the cook smile like that. Currently, he's captivated by the smile itself.

It's crazy how stupidly happy that face of his can get. That is, for someone like Sanji who actively seems to downplay much of his inner passion bursting at the seams. He's noticed this curious trait and wonders why the cook does it.

The northern lights are blotchy and ebbed, a relic in the sky by the time the yurt is in sight. Zoro stays outside with the flashlight to hang the meat. Sanji takes some wood in with him to get the furnace going, exhausted and utterly desperate to take a nice warm bath. Luckily, there are three full jugs of water already prepared (Zoro had made a run to the creek yesterday), so he pours those in to be heated as well. He lights some candles and then begins heating some leftover stew on top of the furnace. He'd saved this much knowing they'd be starving by the end of today.

When Zoro finally enters the yurt, he sighs happily and stretches, neck and shoulders popping with the motions.

"Dinner's ready," Sanji informs, urging Zoro over to grab a bowl.

Zoro nods in his direction before changing out of his dirty, bloody pants and placing them inside a plastic bag to be washed later. Sanji keeps his eyes on Zoro's defined hamstring muscles, turning away when Zoro peers back, sweatpants fastened over his waist.

Zoro picks up a bottle of sanitizer and rubs his hands in it, knowing Sanji won't let him eat otherwise. Then, picking up a two-six of Tanqueray, Zoro makes his way over and grabs the steaming bowl of stew, nodding his thanks to Sanji. He settles down onto the couch, huffing loudly, before placing the bowl down on his thighs to crack open the seal of the gin and take a swig. While he does love whiskey and all its relatives, gin is close in second.

"Drink, cook," he says, twisting the lid back on. "Good hunt today. Went better than expected. Should celebrate."

"You're crazy drinking that straight up," Sanji gawks, staring at Zoro in disgust as he blows on his stew, enjoying his warm spot by the furnace.

"What's the big deal?" Zoro questions, taking another swig. "It's juniper berries. I eat them out here all the time. Takes good, like pine needles."

"Makes sense that a grasshead would like the taste of that."

"Shove it, curly."

"Curly!?"

"Your hair, curls at the tips," Zoro explains, pointing.

Sanji gapes and touches the hair at his neck, looking thoroughly confused, cheeks darkening. Why has Zoro noticed this?

"Hey, if you get to have a new nickname about my hair, so do I."

They finish their dinner and by that time the water is ready for Sanji to start filling the tub.

"Taking a bath," Sanji declares, eyeing Zoro expectantly.

"And?"

"So leave."

"Cook, I busted my ass all day. It's staying parked on this couch and there's nothing you can say that'll get me to move."

Sanji growls. " _Leave_."

"Not like I haven't seen you naked. Get over it."

Sanji's brow twitches. "I will _fillet_ you."

"Look, fine," Zoro relents, readjusting himself on the couch. "If you're so touchy about it, I'll take a nap." He lies down on his back and closes his eyes. "Just don't take long. Need to clean up too."

Sanji begrudgingly assents. He fills the bathtub and keeps a good eye on Zoro's resting form before undressing and climbing into the steaming water. Splashing hot water on himself, he sighs contentedly and leans back into the tub, arms resting at the sides, soaking in completely.

Zoro hears the enticing sounds of water shifting around in the tub as well as the cook groaning and knits his brows together. He peers one eye open and catches sight of Sanji perching a long graceful leg on the edge of the tub, lathering it up with soap. Wet golden locks slide forward onto a sharp nose and crisp cheekbones until slender fingers brush them back with a short breath. His pale skin is flushed all over from the heat of the bath, and that's when Zoro forces himself to shut the sight out, closing his eye.

He turns over on his side so his back is facing the cook and hears Sanji freeze in the water, feels his eyes on him.

Sanji keeps a firm stare on Zoro's back. He'd heard him rustling around over there and wanted to make sure the man is actually napping. Satisfied that he'd merely repositioned himself, Sanji continues his bath.

As he's massaging his scalp with shampoo, he shakes his head knowing that stupid side of him would have liked to catch Zoro staring. The scars aren't the only reason for his modesty. He doesn't like bathing with Zoro in the room because he just ends up yearning for Zoro to look at him the way he wants him to.

But Zoro is always very practical about others' nudity. It's hard to gauge the want off a guy who can be naked in front of anyone and not give two shits about it, who then also expects others to have the same level of poise. Not that he would expect Zoro to want him to begin with.

It sucks to pine, though. It really does. And the more he spends time here with Zoro, the more he trudges up old feelings and conflictions. He hopes Zoro will want to go back home soon.

He's about finished washing when Zoro abruptly gets up, striding over to him in the tub with heavy steps, gin in hand.

"Finished yet?" he asks, hovering over Sanji in the bath. The cook has quickly drawn his knees up to his chest, staring up at him in absolute horror. He then reaches down to run a hand through the water, brushing past Sanji's shin. "Water's gonna get cold."

Sanji's legs flinch away from Zoro's hand. "What the shit! Can you _fuck off!?"_

"Get outta the tub. It's my turn," Zoro demands, throwing off his sweater in one quick gesture and tossing it to the floor. "There's wine out here waiting for you," he adds while sliding off his sweatpants.

Sanji's tightens his grip on his legs as Zoro aggressively strips in front of him. "I wasn't finished," he grouses.

"Do I look like I care?" It's the last piece to be said before Zoro loses the boxers and climbs right into the bathtub with Sanji.

Though he catches a welcomed glance, Sanji doesn't have time to stare at Zoro's naked form, he's got other priorities. He thrashes and kicks Zoro as the man settles in, their legs entangling.

"You motherfucker!" Sanji exclaims, hastily standing up, water pouring off of him. "I can't believe you!"

Zoro only gets a quick eyeful of Sanji's naked front before the blond turns around to grab a towel, swiftly wrapping it around himself and stepping out of the tub with a hoarse, aggravated breath. He swipes a massive splash of lukewarm water into Zoro's face as he goes.

"Prick," Sanji growls out.

Zoro shrugs, wiping the water from his eyes. "Hey, got you outta the tub didn't I."

Sanji snorts irately at him and grabs his duffel bag, making a point to walk to the other side of the tub where he's got a view of the back of Zoro's head.

As he towels himself off and slips into a cozy knit sweater and sweatpants, his heart is pounding like crazy. The things Zoro does to him without realizing. Fuck.

He makes quick, fleeting glances at Zoro's tanned, muscular body peeking out from the tub as he lingers behind the man to grab a bottle of wine. He picks up a waiter's corkscrew and a rocks glass – a shame he'll have to pour into one of these, but he didn't bring wine glasses, too fragile.

Sanji walks to the couch and sits down, expertly opening the bottle. The scent wafts up strongly, it's a nice cabernet sauvignon with a 2010 vintage. Full-bodied and perfect to get cozy with after a day out in the cold.

He drinks and watches Zoro bathe out the corner of his eye, water sliding down his powerful biceps like sweat as the man drinks while washing and scrubbing. Halfway into his glass already, Sanji feels a distracting warmth near his navel before he decides wine and that particular view will lead him into an uncomfortable situation. He wills himself to look away for the remainder of Zoro's bath.

Sanji is pouring himself another glass of wine when Zoro rises and exits the tub, not even bothering to cover himself with the towel as he dries off. Again, Sanji forces himself to stare at the wooden floorboards and not let his gaze wander as Zoro dresses.

The sound of the tub draining and the crackling wood of the furnace's fire are the only sounds between them for a short while. That is until Zoro walks over with his two-six of gin, taking a giant swig of it and sitting next to Sanji on the couch, looking refreshed.

"That's much better," Zoro says with a grin, breaking their silence. He slicks some wet stray black hairs back when they hang too far on his forehead.

Sanji instinctively takes in a large gulp of wine, feeling his cheeks burn with the haze of inebriation beginning to wash him over. His hand moves to his thigh, absentmindedly stroking it with his fingers.

Zoro watches in a daze as Sanji rubs his thigh. He tilts the green bottle back, guzzling two large intakes. Then he gasps, patting his stomach and burping with a smile. Sanji gives him a sidelong glare, calls him a disgusting lout, but Zoro's in too good of a mood to let it distract him. His buzz from the whiskey had ended hours ago after he'd practically licked the flask clean, so it's satisfying to get this warmth back into his system.

He looks to Sanji sullenly drinking his wine in silence. Zoro's never seen someone drink this unhappily before, especially not the cook who usually gets pretty giddy off alcohol. The blond's head is turned away from him, that slender neck wide open for the taking. Pursing his lips, Zoro looks to his gin, noticing that where the clear liquid sloshes around is past the halfway point. Oh. That's why he's getting like this.

"Look pretty bummed, cook," Zoro points out. "Wine's corked or what?"

"When will you be ready to go back?"

Zoro stares at him a moment, interested in why Sanji won't bring his eyes his way and why he's asked this all of a sudden. "When I want to," he answers straightforwardly. "I like it here. You're free to leave whenever."

Sanji's lips thin, hand tightening around the glass. "I'm staying."

Zoro smirks, bottle to his lips, "Figured."

Silence washes over them once more. Sanji drinks and works hard within his mind to stop feeling sorry for himself and conjure up some light conversation. Throwing back the rest of the wine in his glass, Sanji pours himself more. He likes to savour wine, but his tongue is becoming numb to the taste anyway. This wine is strong. He's only halfway done and he's already feeling messy. It helps him come up with something to say at least.

"So you're used to living like this. Hunting, tracking, surviving. How long've you been—"

Zoro carelessly cuts off the small talk. "Think you just need to get laid, cook, sometimes."

"What?"

"All those girls you see, how far do you even get with them? I've wondered."

Sanji's hands tingle. Why is Zoro bringing this up? It's a private matter – Zoro never digs into people like this. Even if Zoro has somehow noticed the truth behind Sanji's womanizing ways, the Zoro Sanji knows would never confront him about it.

"It's not your business," Sanji answers, sipping back more wine.

"You're right," Zoro agrees, ending the conversation right there. He won't push it.

Sanji doesn't want to talk about it, not really. But somehow he can't resist Zoro taking an interest in him and his sex life. He looks down to the culprit, the glass of crimson liquid on his lap. He downs more of it, realizing that the bottle is getting close to empty now. His mind is getting looser and foggier.

Sanji watches Zoro drink, muscles brimming from the short sleeves of his dark green t-shirt. His hand squeezes his thigh, that prickling warmth in his navel returning. He shifts and crosses his legs. Maybe it's not just the wine.

Normally, he wouldn't say shit to anyone but Ace about this. And even Ace knows a very limited amount.

"I end things before sex," he admits. "I don't know why, I..." His hands are shaking, heartbeat going wild. "I just can't follow through."

"With women?"

Sanji nods.

"Not once?"

Sanji is silent a moment, before conceding, "Never."

"Men?"

Sanji's face twists up into mock disgust, yet his blue eyes flash with fear. "No. I wouldn't – I'm not into guys."

Zoro frowns. Why is he lying to himself? It's irrational. He's about to ask whether or not Sanji is a virgin entirely, but decides against it. He wants to take a different approach to this.

"I've slept with men before," Zoro freely confesses, leaning back on the couch. He slumps in easily, muscles laden with fatigue and alcohol. "Back when I first moved to Vancouver, me and Kuina broke up. Hated moving there, was always against it. But she wanted to go for school, so I went. Had a real hard time adjusting. Wasn't the best to her, you know. It was our first break up. I met Luffy around that time. Slept around. Was an experience."

Sanji looks over at him in shock. So would that mean that Luffy and Zoro have already hooked up? Is that the truth behind how they met? As much as these worries are flying through Sanji's head, he keeps them to himself and focuses on their conversation.

"What are you trying to say?" he asks.

Zoro turns to him and sends him a grounding stare. "Look, cook. You're in your mid-20s. If you're gay, accept it. Live your life how you want."

Sanji knows the words already, words of routine and not of truth. He doesn't look up, taking in a shuddery breath, his voice quiet. "I'm not gay. I'm just—"

Teeth clenched, Zoro grabs Sanji's jaw and forces him to look and be truthful as he reinforces, "You _are_. You think I can't tell? The way you look at guys? The way you look at me?"

Sanji is sweating, trauma rushing through his very blood and bones, making them scream. He shouldn't be this way. Zoro's onto him, probably thinks he's disgusting for it, for staring, for yearning all this time. For wanting him, burning for him the way he does. He shouldn't be this way. He should have grown out of it by now.

"There's no way you're a virgin."

"I..." Sanji stalls, at a loss for words. Too much going through him all at once. He grabs Zoro's wrist and attempts to pry his hand from his jaw. Stare maintained, Zoro lets him. He crumbles, his eyes burning, and the words pour out. "I've slept with men." Almost instantly after he lets it slip, he pleads, "Please don't tell anyone..."

Zoro takes Sanji's face in his hands, fighting with the blond a bit to keep them there. He gives Sanji a piercing look, as if attempting to see all the turmoil inside. Why is Sanji so afraid to admit this?

"Sanji," Zoro says, leaning in so close that their lips are a breath's width apart. Sanji's eyes widen at his name and Zoro's eyes slip down to his lips. "I want you, been wanting you for years."

Sanji doesn't even have time to digest how ground-breaking that piece of information is before Zoro is on him, kissing him fiercely, desperately. Just like he said, like he's wanted him for years. Drunk and passionate, Sanji moans into the kiss, fiercely reciprocating with his own years of want and need.

Their breaths are craven, teeth gnashing, tongues entangling, no time to think, just to touch and feel. Zoro's arms are wrapped around Sanji's waist and suddenly he's on the man's lap. Sanji's breaths grow heavier as Zoro fervidly strokes his thighs, and Sanji keeps his hands to Zoro's face, clawing at his jawline and the back of his head.

     

When Zoro's hands wrap around to his ass and squeeze, Sanji's back arches and he shivers with pleasure.

"Fuck," he curses throatily into Zoro's mouth. Zoro's hands are slithering their way through his sweater up the dip in his spine. The front of his pants are becoming painful, he's already this _hard_. " _God,"_ he rasps, tilting his head to the side as Zoro goes to town on his neck, kissing, licking, nipping. He is making animalistic sounds that go straight to Sanji's cock.

Sanji then slides his own hands up Zoro's shirt, excitedly following the ripples of his abdomen, then his chest and the dips and grooves of his scar. Zoro grunts in pleasure, straightening himself so Sanji can move his exploratory hands to his strong back muscles. Everything is so hot and fierce like he'd always imagined it to be.

Zoro can feel Sanji's need pressing into him and he's sure Sanji can feel his own reciprocation. The blond must, because he starts the grinding first, gasping with every wave of pleasure. His hips follow the rhythm of Sanji's movements, the sounds released from the man on top of him skyrocketing the pressure in Zoro's cock.

Fuck, he wants Sanji so fucking bad. He wants to suck him off till he is a crumbling mess beneath him. Zoro feels ready to explode just from the thought alone.

He hastily flips Sanji into a sitting position on the couch and settles between his long, gorgeous legs from the floor. He looks up at Sanji, who's staring at him with lusty blue eyes, waiting, wondering what he will do. The blond is panting heavily, he looks like he won't last a minute with Zoro's mouth on him. Zoro won't last either.

Zoro uses one hand to pull Sanji's erection from the waistband of his sweats and the other hand to fumble around with his own. His mouth is over the head of Sanji's cock in seconds and Sanji's head falls back with a desperate overwhelmed groan. As he pleasures him with his lips and tongue, Zoro strokes himself off to every dire moan Sanji makes, riding the wave of a limit near-reached, a climax just waiting to happen. He has to focus hard on holding it back.

Sanji doesn't last 20 seconds, breaths choked, body trembling as he bucks and comes into Zoro's mouth. Zoro swallows eagerly, no hesitation. Sanji's satisfied sighs from comedown make Zoro groan lowly as he relents, ejaculating onto his hand and sweatpants.

They don't move for several moments, enjoying the rush of afterglow coursing through their bodies.

Eventually, Sanji languidly moves to put himself back in order, eyes drooping, looking ready to pass out. Zoro stuffs himself inside his pants too, leaning over between Sanji's legs to help him lie down. His cheeks are very flushed and his movements sloppy. Zoro looks to the nearly empty bottle of wine. He'd had more than Zoro realized.

Zoro sets Sanji down on his side and squeezes in behind him, draping an arm over him. Nose burrowed in the cook's soft hair, he lets the clean, aquatic smell of Sanji's shampoo pull him into a deep sleep, his body finally succumbing to a long and exhilarating day.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are actually rules to hunting Dall Sheep that Zoro ignored, which is that you can only hunt ones of a specific age in adulthood, distinguished by their horns having a full curl. What Zoro did is illegal in the Yukon, but he doesn't care because he's Zoro and most likely ignorant to that law anyway.


End file.
